This morning you and I were playing on the floor in your bedroom — I was hiding the phone and you were crawling all over my torso and legs to find it — and you suddenly stopped, your face very close to mine, and you leaned in and pressed your nose to my cheek. We stayed in that position for several spectacular seconds, a hesitation that altered history, a moment so intimate it felt like it could end wars. I could feel you grinning on my skin and even though I wanted to scoop you up and cover you in kisses I let you hold your face there for as long as you would. I know there are only a handful of moments like that in life. Thank you for that one.
No, thank you, Heather. Your monthly “newsletters” — love letters, really — are always moving. But this one, in particular, gave me a shiver of happy recognition.
Even now, with my boys well out of toddlerhood and into their “tweens” (aged 8 and almost-11), there are still remarkable moments like that in my life. Moments when they throw their arms around me with abandon, and I bury my head in their hair and soak up the smell and feel of them. Moments when I wake in the early morning and find that one of them has snuck into our bed and snuggled up against me while we slept. Moments where I can step outside of myself for a moment and see how gloriously blessed I am to have these two children in my life.
Thanks for the reminder.
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A convoluted path brought me to your blog and then this posting stopped and warmed me. Some how it made juggling womanhood, motherhood, employment, academia and everything else seem possible--optimistically so, even.
Thank-you for this.
Mary.
I was browsing in my research for U of Phoneix graduate program in Distance learning and adult education. The page that appeared was a posting of your 8-year-old son's creative opus, posted in Dec. of 2002. He and my son have a lot in common. Your photos - so refreshing. Living in Suthern California longer than I care to think about, seeing scenes of WNY - the Genessee River and points of interest - makes me feel a longing.
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