Gone Before We Know It
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By Michelle (Graceful, Faith in the Everyday)
Feet padding soft, silhouette standing bedside while storm crashes. He crawls in, asleep in seconds, arm flung over head, hair frizzled flat, thighs pale-moon soft. I watch him sleep, drinking in that bit of baby still left.
He cries while we watch Free Willy, worried about the whale -- brow crinkled, tears brimming lashes, mouth agape in wailing oh.
“We forget he’s still just five,” says Brad as I shush and console, stroke sunset curls, murmuring reassurances that Willy will indeed prevail.
It seems I’ve forgotten all along, so bent was I on surviving the trials of mothering infants and toddlers. And now, on the eve of too-late, I grip tight, finally not wanting to let go.
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