Tom and I became a team, determined to make her feel loved.
We adapted the house to suit her needs. Tom spent an entire weekend installing textured paths along the floors, tiny ridges that would help her navigate the space independently. “This way, she’ll know the difference between the hallway and the kitchen,” he explained, wiping sweat from his brow as he worked.
We added voice-activated lights, labeled every cabinet with braille, and filled the shelves with audiobooks.
Lila’s room became a dreamland—a cozy haven with soft, colorful textures and a bed adorned with Paw Patrol bedding.
But the real magic happened outside the house.
Every weekend, we took her on what we called “imagination adventures.” We visited beaches, forests, and even amusement parks. Tom and I would describe everything in vivid detail.
One of Lila’s favorite outings was to the bird sanctuary. Early in the morning, we’d sit on a bench and listen to the symphony of chirps and tweets.
“That’s a cardinal,” Tom would say, his voice full of wonder. “Its feathers are bright red, like the sound of a siren.” Lila would smile, tilting her head as if she could picture it.
One afternoon as we sat in the park, Lila nestled between Tom and me, she reached for my hand. Her tiny fingers squeezed mine, and she tilted her face upward with that radiant smile of hers.
“Mommy,” she said softly, “thank you for finding me.
I knew you would.”
Her words hit me. Tears spilled from my eyes as I choked out, “Oh, Lila…” I tried to hold it together, but I couldn’t.
Tom reached over, pulling both of us into a hug, his own tears glistening. “You found us, sweetheart,” he whispered, his voice breaking.
Lila giggled, her hands brushing our tear-streaked faces.
“You guys sniffle so loud!”
We all laughed through our tears, the warmth of that moment wrapping around us like a blanket.
So yeah, sometimes, late at night, I still catch Tom sneaking to the basement.
But now, it’s just love in action.
Source: amomama
