Forever

She took his hand gently and whispered, "come with me," tugging him a little, his feet unmoving.

"Don't want to," he replied shyly, nervous-like, feet shifting, staring at the ground.

"Come on, don't be scared. There is nothing out there. Sissy is with you." She gave his chubby little hand a gentle tug again.

"Don't want to," he repeated.

She looked intensly into his big grey eyes. They were as deep as the sea and filled to the brim with emotion. Scanning back and forth from one eye to the other she tried to read him like a book. "Really buddy it will be just fine, I will hold your hand the whole time. I'm not going anywhere."

He paused and thought for a moment. He stared at the ground and waved his foot back and forth in the dry straw like grass. "Sissy stay?"

"Yes."

"Sissy stay, forever?"

She paused suddenly as if the word forever had struck her somehow. She stared over his head into the distance, as he stared into her eyes waiting for the reassurance he so desperately needed. When he could no longer take the time that was passing, he gave her shirt a gentle tug to remind her that he was there. She looked down at him and smiled. "Yes, sissy will always be with you, no matter what."

He smiled and reached out his hand. She tenderly took it. Together they walked off, hand in hand. with a new found reassurance that no matter what they would always have each other.  

A Letter to my Daughter

Dear Daughter,

How quickly these years have passed since you went from a whispered prayer, to a tender soul burrowed beneath my heart, to a small being tenderly emerging into this world taking your own first breaths. You were always quiet; observing, wide eyed, and unsure.  You never cried, cooed, or whimpered.  We had to learn the early you from only the fervent emotion that radiated from your eyes.  As the time passed on the silence of your demeanor created both a peaceful tenance, but also overwhelmed us at times; like any parent would desire, we needed some indication that you knew we were there. We needed to know we somehow stood out from the rest of the world that seemed to overwhelm you into silence.  Little did we know you were just measuring the world, calculating the perfect time to make yourself known; silently rehearsing for the opening night of your Broadway debut, a one act show starring you.

Finding your voice was a struggle, but when you did, boy you did.  We watched in a mirrored reflection of your own frustration as you discovered an audible shriek that was to define every expression you had. Your emotion filled eyes were the only help to us then too, like a beacon to your soul, a sure blessing from God, for without the light inside of them we would surely have been lost trying to find you.

I will never forget the day you discovered the words you had been absorbing from the moment you broke into this world.  With a courageous roar we watched the gates that held back the expression of your discoveries fall to the ground as you pressed your eyes together, accentuated your larger than life heart-shaped lips, and angrily shouted "bubbles," fearing that your Speech Pathologist would leave without letting you see them if you did not show her you could indeed use spoken language.  From that day forward we never had to fear again that you would reserve the words you kept locked away. Your quota for spoken words on a daily basis is now far above what I can keep track.

You love to ask us what we know and tell us what you have discovered.  Your speech is constantly overflowing with data and lessons that are both academically and spiritually infused.  When reminded that sometimes there are places in this world where it is best not to speak, you often tell me you only talk when it is most important and that there should be no such place where verbal sharing is inappropriate.

Even as your vocabulary grows to an unrecordable measure I find I can still reach you better through communicating with your eyes.  Perhaps it is because this is where I first found you all those years ago, or perhaps it is because, somewhere, lost behind all of the knowledge and theories your words so often speak, is something more important your soul has left to tell; something still lost inside looking to find it's way out.  In your quietest of moments is when I hear your eyes speak the loudest.  Your gaze cuts me like no other, sometimes painful, as if you are literally trying to etch the imprint of all your unspoken fears and desires into the depths of me.   Like putting together a jigsaw puzzle and being handed one piece at a time, so is the road map to your being.  I know in time I will find you there, one piece at a time, and when I do our souls will embrace for they have been together all along, from the very first whispered prayer to the moment you burrowed beneath my heart.

Her Everything

He will do anything to make her laugh.  A smile simply will not do.  Forget the embarrassment that a child his age typically feels just walking around in their own skin, he does not care about that.  He is willing to; strike a pose, make a voice, contort his face, put on a show, going to great lengths to change her mood.  All he cares about is knowing she is happy, knowing whatever he is doing has put that "can't catch your breath" roar of laughter inside of her.  That is the kind of brother he is.

Their happiness is deeply intertwined within each other, as if it physically pains one to see the other sad.  In his world a smile is always a choice.  In her world sometimes a smile is just too difficult to muster up.  At times he has physically taken his hands and turned her mouth into a smile.  This in turn has created a real true smile, problem solved.

Every night he kisses her forehead in her sleep.  Somehow she knows it is him, a smile again.  Nobody buys more time with smiles like he does.  No one else lights up her face like he does.  If we could put some of his love in a bottle for her, we would surely have found the cure for any sadness this life could create.

He is her big brother, he is her everything.

My Kind of Moment

I love moments in life that are filled with beauty and simplicity.  The moments that break you from the clutter of worries in your mind and onto the purity of the immediacy that surrounds you. The kind that temporarily erase the "could have beens" and "what ifs" and solely let you see what is right in front of you.

***

Our oldest son found a praying mantis.  As the little ones all gathered to see the small creature who had been spied, trying it's best to blend in with the earth, our youngest son could barely contain himself.  He stood behind his siblings, trying his best to find the perfect place to get a peek at their newest friend.  "Let me hold hims, let me hold hims!"

"Just a minute, buddy," our oldest said quietly still carefully observing it himself.  Our youngest's excitement grew by the moment.  He was wriggling and writhing trying his best to not explode, not yet having earned his patience badge at only three years old.  He kept rubbing his own hands as if he was lathering them with soap, clearly trying to keep his fidgeting fingers from grabbing without permission.  For a second he would quiet, and then he would explode again not being able to contain it any longer.

"Let me see hims! Let me hold hims!"

"Just a minute." Our oldest tried again, knowing he could only put off the inevitable for so long.

"I need hims!" He grabbed his cheeks and squeezed dragging his eyes down exposing the pink of his inner eyelids. Clearly the pain of waiting had become far too much.  I worried that a creature as small as our new friend could live through such an excited, emotional handling, from a three year old who had been made to wait far too long; a three year old who is still mastering the fine art of "gentle touches."  I looked over at him.  He had this poor; melted cheeked, slumped shoulder, shoe scuffing, sad lump of a little boy look.  He wanted nothing more than to play with the magical creature that was lurking in our back yard.

"Let him see it," I said softly.  His face instantly shot up.  His excitement meter filled back to the brim and maybe over.  He jumped for joy, clapped, and jumped again.

"My turn?"

"Your turn." I winced as his big brother handed him the tiny creature.  I said a small prayer that it would not be it's last moments on Earth, premature death at the hand of a little boy who wanted nothing more than to just love it too much.  As it crawled into the palm of his hand the world stood as still as his ever moving baby hands had now found themselves.  He didn't make a noise, he didn't move his feet, he just stared.  Just him and what was unfolding right in front of him, tranquility, simplicity, perfection.

My kind of moment.

Forever Friends

She sat quietly enjoying a book.  He stood closely looking on, nudging her every few seconds, a constant reminder of his presence.  She found it quite easy to ignore him at first, having nearly four years of experience, but as time passed and his persistence only got stronger, she found it best to just give in.

She gently shifted over and motioned for him to join her.  He threw his leg up onto the chair as if he was climbing an obstacle course plopping heavily beside her.  As she began to read aloud he became entranced, enthralled, with every passing word that left her lips.  He shifted his gaze slightly from time to time only to see if the pictures on the pages matched the words she magically lifted from them, each time they did a little giggle would softly echo from deep inside him.

As the story drew on their connection drew closer, so intertwined that even their feet would adjust ever so slightly, at the same times, in the same manner.  When the story was finished, she closed the book.  She looked at her little brother, and he at her.  Their faces now told more of a story than the fairy tale she had read to him.