Sunday, November 23, 2008

puddles and pine cones





It's hard to see part of your heart walk around outside of your body, but there he goes, walking through puddles and trying to walk down stairs. He might reach up to hold my hand, and I'll hold it firmly and gently and love the warmth that comes from the fluttering that is toddlerhood. Then he lets go and tries to run, stepping on crinkly leaves and finding pine cones on the grass. For now he wants me to be there, close enough to show me the treasures he finds and help him if he wants help. And I am here.

3 comments:

Maria Rose said...

Oh, you made a lump rise up in my throat. So precious!

Court said...

wow e, this was some of your best writing ever. i mean it. really stinking awesome.

bobeesah said...

-thanks guys. And here I thought it was getting too cutesy. Really, thank you!