It’s midnight and I’m working late, almost done, it’s due first thing in the morning. Exhaustion is constant, in my bones, and sometimes I have macabre thoughts that if I were in the hospital or jail for two weeks I could just sleep, undisturbed.
She pads out from her bedroom, pink elephant pajamas and freshly washed curls, eyes half-mast. Without a word, she climbs on to my lap, and rests her head on my chest, where she will sleep for a few more minutes until I finish up and hit send.
I put her into my bed. She has an internal mommy magnet that snaps her to my side, no matter how big the mattress or where we are on it.
It is dark and so so quiet. Tears slip down my face as I think about how many ways we keep finding each other, over and over again.
Comments 3
The photo, the intimacy, the honesty, the love- beautiful.
oh for goodness sakes. I just saw your piece on Jezebel today about protecting against unwanted hugs ( great insights I agree 100%) which lead me to your blog. This lovely piece just brought tears to my eyes. My 9 year old son still adores hugs, snuggling and general affection. Such deep connection brings so much comfort to our children. The other day my son was telling me how he remembers different phases of wanting to sleep with his dad and with me. ( we read and lie with him after stories) He said “I like sleeping with daddy because he’s warm and I like sleeping with you because you’re comforting.”That was such a compliment. Here’s to nurturing parents and unconditional love. Thank you for your wonderful writing. your heart sings to me today. and it’s especially nice because it’s actually a very sad day as I lost my mom to Alzheimer’s disease this morn. reading your sweet words of mother love is a great comfort.
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Melissa, I’m so sorry about your mom. That’s really lovely about how you are with your son. It makes me feel like maybe her taking up the whole bed is a good problem to have — it won’t last forever. Thank you for reading and for reaching out.