Aron was first up this morning, after me.
Green flannel Christmas pajamas and skinny four year old arms and legs curled up in my lap for a little while.
His stillness, my sleepiness and the knowledge so evident in his older brothers, that it won’t be this way for long, makes me cherish the holding.
Little moments where it seems we’re standing still. Surely the clock doesn’t tick when we are at peace. Surely the sun is not continuing its course, and the earth forgets it’s turn when we have found a place to rest. Surely, the other things can wait.
Once the dance started again and all three boys were up, eating, rushing with me, we were able to get there on time, but just barely. For a moment I chastised myself for once again being behind.
Owen pointed to the time, “We should be leaving right now!”
And we were still eating breakfast. I was still in pajamas, they were still without shoes and bags unpacked.
I smiled and said, “we need to be a good team this morning, you each have to do your part so we aren’t late.”
Ivan hurried. That never happens.
Aron was patient. Rare.
Owen led. I encouraged. Ivan put his shoes on in the van on the way to school and we made it on time.
No one cried, yelled or had to be scolded, there was unity.
Some mornings time is wasted on the computer, reading unnecessary things, facebook, blogs and news sites. Those mornings, running out of time produces frantic chaos, yelling and frustration.
Holding little arms tight inside mine, praying over a day that would include his questions and constant “under-foot-ed” ways. Simply loving the feel of his soft skin under my palm.
Holding was not time wasted. Maybe time didn’t stand still for us, but it was not disappearing either. It’s still here, in my mind. Softening the entire morning.
I don’t know how long I have to enjoy it first hand. One day I will wake up to find myself looking up at them, but I will remember, even if they don’t, the beautiful early rising, the scratchy voices calling, “good morning mommy!” and the green flannel Christmas pajamas covering a little boy curled up in my lap.
I will remember the quiet power of sunrise and holding.
I feel the same way. I hate it when I waste time with the frivolous when the precious and meaningful is right in front of me. The seeds you’re planting now ensure that when you are looking up at them, they’re still holding you close.
I wish i had done more holding back then. I try to make up for it now with all my sweet grandkids.