It Took Twelve Times

Windchimes whisper in our garden as kids next door call “Papa!” and I ask God for words. Silence settles; a hummingbird perches. Then the memory: our first argument, my ache to “love better,” and his answer — I love you. I pushed it away until, the twelfth time, something cracked open. Softened, I finally believed it. He keeps saying it still. Love is home. Love is how he speaks.