Friday, March 2, 2012
let this be a reminder
I sat on the floor last night, looking at a freshly bathed Duke. I sang him songs and he gave me sweet looks and coos. I gave him Eskimo kisses all over his face and whispered to him how much I loved him. And how I would love him forever. He was still and calm, but smiling and looking right at me. I love this moment, I thought. I don't even want to put him to bed or go take a shower. I want to stay in this moment with him. I sat there, closed my eyes as I held him, and thought. I thought hard about how his body felt, how small his hands were, how he smelled, the feeling of his eyelashes blinking on my cheek, and the tone of his noises. I thought, I am making myself remember.
I want to reassure and tell the 30, 40, etc. year old version of myself something:
You treasured some great moments. You smelled his baby smell, talked to him, held him, and kissed him nonstop. You sang to him, read him books, and played the piano for him. Sure, you got frustrated when you got drenched from spit up the 5th time in a day. You got upset when the one night you wanted to take him somewhere he decided to be fussy. But, those aren't big rocks. Those aren't the summation of your time with Duke. You spent time with him. Time that was meaningful.
I'm not saying you shouldn't reminisce. You should. But I know you. And I need to remind you of this: Don't ever feel like you didn't give 100% or that you didn't sit and soak in all of his sweetness. You did ... and you still are.
I am enjoying pieces of heaven everyday with him and you are too. And the best part? You love him more than I can comprehend and in ways that I can't grasp right now. I'm holding baby Duke and you're teaching and communicating with grown up Duke. It's all sweet and it's all wonderful. Let's both keep cherishing these seconds with him as best as we can.