He stretched out on the couch, long and lean, while I sat hovering.
Does the heat help? Is is too hot? Do you need another blanket?
It seems years have passed since the last time he needed me in the middle of the night. Many years. But ears have a way of crying out in the wee small hours. He winces through the pain, and my whole mama-self wants to haul him up in my arms and hold him close while I whisper away the pain. But that inch he has grown past me makes it all but impossible. I settle for the hovering... the reheating of the bean-bag, the spreading of another blanket, the watching, the waiting.
Each age, each phase they tumble through, each moment in time... is scattered with gifts, even if they are occsionally scattered in the rubble. I wonder what I would give for the chance to turn back the page and hold my little boy, full in my arms, just once more. The vision slinks in with a warm love glow... and for a minute, all seems worth it. And then clarity comes about and I realize how good it is right now. No trade would suffice... right now needs to be the victor. Right now, perched on the edge of big dreams, with its independence and sense of humor and never-ending list of things that make a mama smile.
I hear his even breathing, place a kiss on his forehead... and I whisper a thank you to the Creator of what was, what is and what will be.
A week flies by and it is Tuesday again... a Tuesday with gifts to unwrap. The gifts are not always beautiful at first glance, but when I seek with grace-colored-glasses, I find the beauty that was longing to be found. Last week Emily urged to "Begin with the gifts at your feet and see where they take you." Thank you, Emily. They have taken me on a journey and back.