Lily is curled up in the couch with her. With one hand under her chin and on her clavicle, with her head over her chest, listening to her heartbeat, and all the length of her grown-up body along with hers, a much older one.

There would be pretty much nothing more interesting to say if it wasn't for the fact that Lily is now nineteen and she just came from her trip to the UK. And the first thing she did when she came downstairs from having a shower and putting her PJ's is sit down on the couch beside her, and then make herself more comfortable by stretching along her side. One minute after and with a calm, slow motion she has put her head between her chest and her neck and breathed her in.

She is like her. Independent, not too touchy-feely at every moment, but today… today she is cuddling up because she missed me, and she said so, but I can guess there's something more in there. Something happened in these practically three months of her work-away experience. But for now, I am content to be-

-Mommy- Lily sighs-

At peace.

And that's enough for her heart to melt immediately.

She has just been brought back mentally to the way that simple word sounded from her little girl's lips the first time, almost eighteen years ago now.

And that's enough for her too.

To know that her daughter has missed her more than she lets her know.

Because she is like her. And it's hard to make her talk about her feelings or offering a soft hug.

But then, with one mere utterance or one little touch on a peculiar stormy afternoon after too long without seeing each other, with the clatter of the rain drops combined with the vibrations of the wind banging against the window glass, and the chattering of the boys in their room, bickering one another, the calm tap tap tap of her husband's laptop keys, she believes she has to be the happiest woman in the whole world.