We are in the car. Taking the long drive to California.
Next to you, your sister is sound asleep. But not you. You are wide awake, sticking your feet toward me in a plea to tickle them.
It's one of my favorite things about you. Probably because it's something you got from me.
You are your fathers daughter. You look like your dad. You have his facial expressions. You have his goofiness and kind heart.
There isn't a whole lot of me that I see in you, except this. You love having your feet tickled. Just like your mom.
So, in this dark, quiet car, on this dark, snowy road, I will tickle your feet and feel extra close to you.
I love you, Molly.