Monday, October 6, 2014
A Letter to my Son
The air is getting crisper. The mornings frosty. We can see our breath during our morning walks and what looks suspiciously like frost in some areas of the grass. The other day I could have sworn I saw a few flurries drifting down. It feels like we are in store for an extra cold and blustery winter. My bones ache. I didn't want to go on our morning walk today, but you needed to get out. You and I have been fighting an annoying little bug this past weekend, and cabin fever was setting in. You have been an explosive, wall climbing, ball of energy, and the back yard has not been enough to settle you lately. So we bundled up and out the door you sprinted like an happy untamed breeze.
You were so excited to be out on our walk and lead the way to the duck pond, a whirlwind of life and joy. Your not so tiny feet marched along the wood bridge. You love the sound they make and pounded a steady beat for us. Energetically singing and chanting with those words that only you can understand just yet.
And then it happened...
You sat down...
For almost half an hour you sat there watching the ducks floating by.
Wrapped in awe.
I stood by, equally mesmerized by you.
My beautiful son, you are a force of nature when you so choose to be. Normally that means to me a hurricane of energy, but sometimes you remind me that nature can also be soft, subtle, and quiet. I was going to shoo you on our way, but decided to hold back and wait until you were done observing. There was no rush. Just a quiet lesson to be learned. Thank you for teaching me daily.
With all my love. Shine on.