Rosey fell asleep on my lap today.
She's been relentlessly shaking off all things babyish, so I was surprised to look down and see her thumb plugged in, her blankie scrunched up near her face, and hear those long, slow breaths that seem like peace themselves.
It felt familiar and new at the same time. I remembered how new and tiny she was in my arms, how I used to nestle my cheek in her hair and she'd stir and kick in her sleep, and with one of her little bird feet in my hand I'd try to imagine her walking or running or dancing around. How the slight heft of her always felt so right, such a part of me, snuggled and safe.
Today was no exception - I stroked her pretty hair and ran a finger down her arm and her soft clever hand, and reconciled my memories of my baby sleeping with this not-so-grown-up girl, still seeking comfort and trusting me to keep her safe.
Her legs are longer now, but her weight as she sleeps? Still seems a part of me.
I watched CNN on and off today.
I hope the grieving parents can reach back and find peace in a time when they rocked their children, and all was right with the world.
12 comments:
I'm crying - and wishing my kids were home so I could run out and hug them tight.
My heart breaks for the parents who thought their children were safe living in the dorms on campus. Seems like our children have no safe places left to be....
My little one just turned three and I've had a lot of moments looking at her lately like you describe. Sigh...it goes by too fast...
Don't we wish we could scare away all their monsters and let them sleep like a baby. Don't we wish we could tell them that there really wasn't any monsters in the world. :(
Lovely and haunting post... Beautifully done.
Oh, you're gonna make me cry...which isn't a bad thing.
The world is not a safe place. It never has been.
Days like this we either weep or our blood boils. Or both, maybe at the same time.
I thought of you this afternoon while I was holding Emily in my lap as she finished waking up after her nap. Usually I feel like I am spoiling her by cuddling her on my lap for extended periods of time. You helped me remember that this time when she is willing to sit on my lap and be cuddled is very short and there are a bunch of parents in Virginia who are wishing that they had just a few more minutes to hold their messy-haired, just-up-from-a-nap baby on their laps. *sniff* Ok, I have to stop before the pregnancy hormones take over and I start sobbing...
"Still seems a part of me" - how beautifully you say it.
Our babies are always our babies.
Another beautiful post. You have such a way with words.
These are the posts that always resonate the most with me. I am forever waxing nostalgic about my kids (who just happen to be the same ages as yours!). I loved this post. I love to cuddle my babies still - I give them as many hugs, kisses and cuddles as they will allow and love when I get to just sit quietly with them all cuddled in (probably why I love story time so much).
This post reminded me of a saying. In a nutshell, it goes like this: be grateful when you're up at 3am with your fussy baby because you know that he is safe. In 16 years you may well be up at 3am worrying about where your child is and if he's safe.
I am forever reminding myself to treasure these times when I can still protect my kids from mostly everything (mostly).
This was a beautiful post.
I cuddle my small grandson with the same thoughts, & I cuddled his now adult sister before him, & my children as babies before those.
It seems I have always been conscious of how much I needed to love them while I could.
Thanks for coming by and leaving a comment on my poem. It was actually inspired after reading your words here. I forgot to mention that earlier but it has now been rectified.
Post a Comment