We were getting ready to go to the movies.
Everyone else was ready, waiting.
But Isabelle was still upstairs.
Eventually—finally—she came down, dressed, hair done, face composed.
I smiled and opened my arms.
“Can I get a hug?”
She walked over, leaned in, and said,
“Not too close… my makeup’s not set yet.”
It made me laugh.
Made her laugh too.
She still let me hug her.
Just… carefully. Lightly. A half-second longer than I expected.
And that was enough.
Because there’s something beautiful in these in-between moments—
When she’s not a little kid anymore, but not all the way gone either.
She’s becoming herself.
One hug at a time.
