i am always capturing:
my first cup of coffee in the morning
simcoe, stretched out in the streaming sun
the light dancing through the front doors
the books i’m reading
dj interacting with anyone, everyone
what i’m cooking, or snacking on
my husband, working around the house.
the mess spread across the family room floor
the crumbs left under dj’s high chair after every meal.
what i don’t capture enough:
the seven o’clock light dancing in our front yard,
peeking through the palm trees
as the sun makes it descent.
it was beautiful tonight.
tonight after dj’s bath
i held him in his chair
and sang to him, softly, very quietly
because after all this time
i’m still too nervous
to let dom hear me sing.
for those fifteen minutes –
while i held my not so small son in my arms
and smelled the baby shampoo in his hair
and cupped his soft thighs in the palm of my hand –
all was right in the world.
all was perfect in the world.
most days its hard to remember that he won’t always be this small.
he won’t always let me hold him before bed
he won’t always stare up at me with those big, dark eyes of his
and smile when i start to sing
he won’t always make that soft moan as he drifts off
and slowly reach up to touch the side of my face,
as if to say: i love you, mom.
i suppose that what i’m trying to say is:
tonight was beautiful, and
i need to soak in these fleeting moments.