Dusky blue shadows hang in the space between us. The last rays of the sun have gone to sleep, and twilight looms, a lazy, late-summer night. We sit in the quiet, just looking at each other. I hum a lullaby over you and study all your sweet features. Soft, dark hair combed over to the side of your white forehead, roll poly arms, a blocky face with a perfect little, round nose and pointed chin. Your eyes stare back at mine, as if you’re begging me to tell you the story.
Because there’s a story in you, Little Bear. Did you know that? We all have one. It’s yours–beautiful and rich with all the light that makes you human. I may not know just quite how it goes yet, but it’s there inside you, waiting to be read.
Rocking back and forth in the familiar chair I hold you in my arms. What a sweet lump you are. Soft, warm, with that baby smell I would exchange oxygen for if I could. I try to decide what I love most about you, but hopelessly give up because there is just too much goodness in you to choose.
Goodness. Your story starts with that, Little Bear. So much goodness. Very goodness, in fact. And that is the best part.
Snuggling you, breathing you in, kissing your forehead and hold your hand…it’s intoxicating because it’s full of so much goodness. Your little life unmarred by the world, full of potential and creative power. And even though you don’t know it yet, all you have ever known is love. Perhaps that is the best part; the wholesome and unattached love with which you see me. Love and joy simply because I am your momma. Simply because you love my face. My voice. My fingers intertwined with yours.
Sitting here in the shadows of the night, you stare at the tired woman who carried you in aches and bore you in quite a labor, and somehow you just know to delight in me because you came from me. With you, I don’t have to pretend away my feelings. Don’t have to deny my own desires or hopes or wishes. I can feel my needs because you can’t reject me. You can’t unlove me.
Yes, your story starts with goodness. The shadows, aches, pains, and weariness are all apart of the process. Nothing in life is perfect. But you, Little Bear, you are a glimpse of the perfect human. The one who lives to love and be loved. The one I hope to someday become.