Mi’ijo, my son,
I sit holding you as we glide back and forth in the middle of the night.
You are so tiny.
You fit, with space to spare, between the arms of the gliding chair.
This quiet room merges into the soundlessness of the outside world.
As I watch you breathe I sink into the stillness.
Such peacefulness, my heart opens, precious, vulnerable.
My Dad died in ’86. I kept some of his old shirts.
The ones with his initials stitched on the breast pocket.
Wanting to keep him close.
They were so large I didn’t think I would ever wear them.
Then, five plus years later you came, and these old blue shirts fit perfectly.
And I sit and glide, night after night, holding you as you nurse and fall back to sleep.
As if my Dad, who never got to see you, were now holding both of us tenderly.
My heart expands as I write.
I feel so moved.
Tears of gratitude making their way into my eyes.
Where do tears come from?
Life is so precious.
The sound of our breathing, separate yet overlapping, yours a bit faster and more shallow.
In sync with our gliding.
Gentle, rhythmic, fluid, and quiet.
Endless space from the depth of my being as it blends with yours, then the room,
to the place outside the window, past the hills, into the night sky.
I kneel before you.
Your face so close as you hug the person in front of me.
Your deep brown eyes catch mine for a moment of eternity.
Your left hand on their right shoulder, just inches away, draws me like a magnet.
It seems so soft and gentle.
I feel the caress it holds.
Could I be a feather or a light breeze
as I slowly reach up and barely, as delicately as possible,
let my finger tips touch your hand.
Time stretches out as I bring them back to touch my forehead and lips.
Wanting this moment to last forever.
My heart expands as if it would burst.
Waves of gratitude.
I am now in front of you.
You smile and pull me towards you,
My face buried in your chest.
I sink in.
Your voice in my ear …..daughter, daughter, daughter.
The universe opens up and once again I glide into the quiet, endless night.
The dark, deep sky illuminated by stars.
You are the universe and we are all your stars.
Tenderness, compassion, belonging, peace, acceptance
Can I remember that all this lives in me?
Driving down the freeway at rush hour.
Waiting in line at the café.
Sitting in a restaurant overhearing a conversation laden with judgments and evaluations.
Having a difficult interaction with my now twenty four year old son.
Pause, breathe, touch the quiet place, the night sky, the stillness.
The wonder of our humanity.
That I may be all of this
Written for Challenge for Growth Prompt #5: I am Love