There’s a small child in our lives of late. We try to keep him once a week to help the single Mom and Grandmother who both work. For some reason he and I have a bond. He comes to me and grins and we just know we’re glad to be with one another.
I love him. If I try to call it anything else I do not articulate. He doesn’t speak yet. A part of me doesn’t want him to. There is a beauty in his silence and fear not … he communicates well. He’s a happy child, always smiling and curious. He doesn’t like when you lay him on his back yet has come to accept when we do.
My wife sends me videos and photos at work. Every time I look at one I find that I feel transported somehow … affected. He’s exhausting. You’re concerned he’ll fall or get hurt on your watch. I spoil him because I can.
The thing is, I kept being moved by it all, tearful. So I texted my wife when she sent a photo as he was “operating” a small blower with our cousin explaining that my feelings confused me until suddenly … it was there.
This child, his beauty and innocence, the difficult yet loving family dynamic, his very presence in the universe breaks my heart. He begins his life and all the things that make us hard start to happen. All he knows is curiosity and want. He doesn’t understand when he doesn’t get it but he’s only sad for a few short moments then something else pops up and he’s forgotten.
If only we could forget. If only we could forgive. Then we could move on with the curiosity of a small child and our lives would be so much better for it.
Yet we will remember. Our resentments will, drip by drip, rob us of the beauty, power and grace we have been so freely given. Or will we ... can we ... each day, "let go and let God?"
I love him. If I try to call it anything else I do not articulate. He doesn’t speak yet. A part of me doesn’t want him to. There is a beauty in his silence and fear not … he communicates well. He’s a happy child, always smiling and curious. He doesn’t like when you lay him on his back yet has come to accept when we do.
My wife sends me videos and photos at work. Every time I look at one I find that I feel transported somehow … affected. He’s exhausting. You’re concerned he’ll fall or get hurt on your watch. I spoil him because I can.
The thing is, I kept being moved by it all, tearful. So I texted my wife when she sent a photo as he was “operating” a small blower with our cousin explaining that my feelings confused me until suddenly … it was there.
This child, his beauty and innocence, the difficult yet loving family dynamic, his very presence in the universe breaks my heart. He begins his life and all the things that make us hard start to happen. All he knows is curiosity and want. He doesn’t understand when he doesn’t get it but he’s only sad for a few short moments then something else pops up and he’s forgotten.
If only we could forget. If only we could forgive. Then we could move on with the curiosity of a small child and our lives would be so much better for it.
Yet we will remember. Our resentments will, drip by drip, rob us of the beauty, power and grace we have been so freely given. Or will we ... can we ... each day, "let go and let God?"
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