A Friday ritual: a single photo, unaccompanied by explanation, which captures “a simple, special, extraordinary moment…I want to pause, savor and remember.” ~SouleMama
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If you’re inspired to do the same, leave a link to your ‘moment’ in the comments for all to find and see.
A Friday ritual: a single photo, unaccompanied by explanation, which captures “a simple, special, extraordinary moment…I want to pause, savor and remember.” ~SouleMama
**********
If you’re inspired to do the same, leave a link to your ‘moment’ in the comments for all to find and see.
Today I’m breaking the photo tradition to relate a small story. After over a year of enjoying the moments of friend’s I’ve connected with via Soulemama, and sharing nearly a photo a week – mostly of WV, my son, some of pigs and chickens, you know quotidian yet special in my life – that I want to “pause, savor, and remember,” I can not but help recount a small event that left an enormous imprint. We know the old adage, pictures vs. words, but there was no photo, and you wouldn’t know the moment’s impact without me letting you into my mind. It makes me wonder about all the moments gone, undocumented, so momentous in our lives. Let’s think on those for a moment and pause to remember that not everything must be captured on film, but can still be savored for a day, a week, or a lifetime.
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Tuesday was rough. Things just weren’t going well. I mixed up a batch of drywall mud only to discover that I could not discover where the drywall mud spatulas were. Things involving naughty animals (kittens accosting freshly painted cabinets), poop, and flowerpots being broken by a curious toddler. The kind of things that, although they don’t require a prayer that your insurance deductible is low, can really put you in a foul mood. Also, I am a rolling hormone wagon right now at almost 35 weeks pregnant. I feel like this enormous pregnant goat, minus the zen cud chewing. I yelled and lost my temper at a few points.
It was 1:30 and we’d been up since 5:15am. I just needed WV (20 months, btw, for those who don’t know his age) to nap.
He was literally falling asleep in his lunch, but put up a dramatic fight going to his room for nap-time. I laid him down in his brand-new, cozy, big boy bed, which he does love, but at the moment didn’t. I laid beside him (difficulty level 8, remember, I’m a goat pregnant with twins…and this is a toddler bed). He stopped crying. We pulled the soft covers up. He looked at me. And then he reached out with both his arms, pulling my head to his chest, rubbing his chin into my hair, holding me close. Like his father. He yawned and sighed, those little breaths that are utterly adorable because they come from a little person whom you love unconditionally. He was comforting me and was comforted by me. And then he fell asleep.
And this is what I thought: One day, maybe 20-30 years from now, I hope to have the great joy and honor of toasting my son and his bride at their wedding, where I will recount this past Tuesday, my little man holding me while nodding off in his car-studded onesie. And I will say that I hope he holds her head on his chest just so through the rest of the moments of their lives. My sweet baby boy, his empathy and tenderness will belong to another.
Oh gosh, I bawled warm tears that I prayed wouldn’t wake him up, and imagined disentanglement would be a problem; but it wasn’t, he was fast asleep.
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This moment. This very moment.
True Love and Homegrown 