I was lying on the couch relaxing, and my daughter crawled up and lay down next to me, snuggled in tight against my side. She started talking my ear off in her sweet 2-year old voice and telling me all about her toys and the Lion King and everything else on her little mind. It was a tender moment, so I said, “Olivia, when you’re 14 will you still come lay with me on the couch and talk to me about everything?”

Olivia replied, “Yes.”

I asked, “Do you promise?” And she said, “I promise.”

So I said, “When you’re 16 and you come home from a date, will you lay with me on the couch and tell me all about it?"

Olivia again replied, “Yes.”

I asked, “Do you promise?” And she said, “I promise.”

Then I said, “Olivia, when you’re 18 and you go off to college, will you come back and visit me, and lay with me on the couch and talk to me about everything?”

Olivia again replied, “Yes.”

I asked, “Do you promise?” And she said, “I promise.”

I then continued to ask if when she became a mommy herself, and when she was 50 and her kids were moving out, and when she was 60 and getting ready to retire, and when she was 80 and an old grandma, if she would still come lay with me on the couch and tell me about everything.

She said, “Yes, I promise.”

I couldn’t help but break down into sentimental tears as I unsuccessfully tried to fathom the thought of all of those future occasions, of 100-year old me lying with 80-year old Olivia, talking about our lives together. I can’t imagine life any different than how it is now, with her ever-so dependent on me for her every need, and her ever-so trusting and never thinking twice that those needs will always be met. I wondered how I could ever let go of this sweet life I have with her, how could I ever accept her growing up?

As always, she grew very concerned at my crying and said, “Don’t cry, mama. Be happy!” I told her that it's okay to cry, and that I was happy, and that I was especially happy that she was my girl and my best friend and that I got to share my life with her. She replied “Yeah, and elephant!” (referring to her nasty stuffed elephant that I'm starting to think was attached to her at birth). And I laughed and said, “Right, of course, and elephant.”

A few days later, I was in the kitchen making her lunch and she asked to drink some grape juice from a “big girl” cup. I said “Okay Olivia, but you have to stay in the kitchen and be so careful so you don’t spill it. Do you promise to be so careful?”

She replied, “Yes, I promise. Don’t cry, mama!”