Wednesday, July 23, 2014
A Letter to my Son
Summer is fading fast. Yesterday we spent the day outside, and while butterflies danced and twirled around us you sat in amazement on the grass with the sun setting your hair aglow.
These are moments that have no photos.
This morning we went for a bike ride/walk and you were so happy to present me with a Canadian Goose feather you found. You studied it, oh so intently. Smiled at it, and found it a worthy gift to give. I will never forget the light in your eyes as you handed it to me. You have few spoken words, but the light in your eyes spoke volumes. Little rocks, feathers, and nuts have been finding their way into your hands lately and have been reverently handed into my care. Every found treasure reminds me just how blessed I am.
These are moments without video.
Today I finished packing up the rest of your clothes you have outgrown. I soothed you to sleep for your nap, and tried not to cry as I started sorting through your "to big" pile of clothes finding things you have already outgrown. Perhaps it is because summer is on the downward swing, but I've noticed a lot of mothers talking about their children growing to fast lately. Perhaps it's because we have started looking at preschool for you (just a year and a half away). I don't know why, but I keep noticing all the little things and the big things that have changed about you, about me, about us since you entered our lives a short 15 months ago.
These are moments to fleeting to be captured by machines.
I hold all these moments in my heart. I record them here as best as I can, but know they don't do them justice. I hope one day you will look back on these letters with your own wee one and hear what I am trying to tell you, and then I hope you turn to your wee one and say....
Not at first. Just hold them.
Record those moments on your heart.
There is no other device powerful enough to hold these precious imprints,
and all to soon, they will be gone.
I love you dear dear Panda. Shine on.