Brenna fussing

[vaneramos]

Tonight Brenna was fussing so I walked in the garden with her. While holding her on one arm I snapped tomato suckers with the other hand. The whisper of the sprinkler and the sharp tomato scent filled the humid air. Afterwards I walked around the meadow path and she fell asleep in my arms. The air was sweet with the meadow fragrance in the summer heat. I wonder if she will smell that aroma someday when she is an adult, and I wonder what kind of feelings it will bring? Will she remember her baby fussiness and her displeasure, or will she remember a father's patience? Will she know how I agonize over how to love her and be a good father?