My son gets a little nervous about storms. Last night, as I sat down to write a blog post, there was a flash of lightening and a crack of thunder shake through the house. Shortly following was a quiet voice, “Mom, will you come keep me safe?”
At the top of the stairs, I picked him up and held on to the little body that was shaking like a leaf. “You’re safe. No worries,” I whispered. “Remember you don’t have to worry about the weather, you’re safe at home.”
“The safest place is in your bed,” the muffled voice reasoned.
Although it is not a common practice for him to sleep in our bed, I couldn’t resist. I tucked him in, kissed his clammy head, and whispered good night. My feet weren’t even out of the bedroom when another thunder boomed through the house.
“Mom,” his voice thick with panic came through the dark room, “Please stay with me. Please keep me safe. Please.”
I made my way back to the bed and snuggle under the covers, holding him close. He closed his eyes and relaxed. Although I had laundry to do, cookies half made, a blog post to write, some reading to complete, and I was wide awake, I stayed there beside him.
I decided all of those things could wait. All of those things will still be on my to-do list years from now. However, I won’t always have a little boy who wants me to snuggle close and keep him safe. Lying next to him, I remembered how I longed to have a child. I remembered the heart break of losing a child. I remembered the excruciating wait for a child. I remembered wanting nothing more than to feel my baby’s breath upon my cheek. As his breath tickled my cheek, these reminders made me forget all of the to-dos and have-tos and should-haves and simply focus on this sweet simple slice of life.
Unhurried. Finding the magic in the middle of living. Capturing a life of ridiculous grace + raw stories.