Moments like these ...

Graham just woke up in a fright ... standing in his crib crying for Mommy. At first I was worried he might have vomited or might be sick - it was a fast-paced, frantic cry, but after a quick temperature reading (thank you Braun for your easy thermometer) we figured he must have had a scary dream. He asked for the sun, and we told him it was still sleeping time, and Pat turned off the hall lights and stepped out while I started singing my sweet mellow songs - a comfort to both of us:: Oh Shenandoah, The Water Is Wide, Be Thou My Vision, Hold Me Jesus, Jesus Lover of My Soul ... I rocked and sang.

Then I hummed ... then I stopped. And put my feet up and kept rocking. After a few moments he opened his eyes and he looked at me then closed them. They fluttered one more time, and then I had time in my hands. He hasn't slept in my arms in so long. And he doesn't let me snuggle him for more than a few precious moments. When I hold him at the end of the night, he ends it and asks me to put him in bed. But tonight he rested with me, and he gave me time. And revel I did. With relish and relief.

I wonder at the peace he feels with me - his Mommy. I sat still, I shifted, I sighed, I stroked his head and I remembered how it felt to sit in that chair almost 2 years ago doing the same thing to help him into sleep. I wondered then and I wonder now at the wonder of life - how we start so small and we bring with us so much joy and amazement and we see the world with so much joy and amazement ...

I know there will be several days/week/months before this moment arrives again - if it does. And if it does, I know he'll fit on my lap differently then.

I once read a children's book (I think it was written more for the moms than the kids) about a Mommy who treasured every precious moment as if it were the last:: the last kiss in public, the last handmade card, the last bear hug when she was still able to envelop him in her arms. And I think about that. And I treasure, and I relish the wonder.

I quietly put him back into bed and as I felt him settle in, he cried out once, Mommy? "I'm here ..." I said as I rubbed his back ... and I stayed, and breathed him in. And then I wrapped my mind softly around the memory and walked back into passing time.

I love you, baby.