Perfection
She was perfect in every sense of the word. Her beautiful sapphire eyes
stared at me inquisitively. Though just a small amount of fuzz on her
head, her blind hair was truly radiant. I counted her fingers and toes
hundreds of times, and yet each time I still smiled at it. When she
reached her infant arms to me, I could not help to love her more.
Serenity, so named because she brought the most amazing peace to my
life. A peace that I had never known, but was more than happy to
have. To know her, was to know joy.
All the wonder that she was never ceased to bring passion to my
life. Passion was her best trait, which was a miracle in itself
since she was born of a passionless union. Her father and I got along
well enough, but there was never a passionate love. Such is the tragedy
of a political marriage. Not long after we learned of her impending
arrival, he left for war in a distant land, He never returned, whether
by choice or death, I never knew. I did learn from our union, and that was
my daughter would marry for love, not allies.
I wanted her to know the love I never had. To stare into the eyes of her
husband, and know his passion was her. Maybe that is where I failed her.
Instead of choosing for her, I let her chose. Maybe my heart would not
have broken if I had arranged a marriage for her, but then I would not have
known how happy love made her. I have not regrets for my life or hers,
only ponderings.