Friday, May 24, 2013

Grady.


Grady.
Oh, be still my heart, how I love him.
I love all four and a half years of noise, and dirt, and slimy creatures, and kissin' and huggin'.



He has eyes that are so brown, they're almost black, and hands that remind me so much of my daddy's.


He is smart, and silly, and funny, and sweet. He is tender and sensitive, and fights back the tears when he's unsure.

He loves fish, frogs, lizards, worms, snakes, alligators, sharks, hippos, and rhinos.

He loves building houses, cars, caves, cages, and boats.

He will fish for anything he can find; stuffed animals, baby dolls, clothing in the hamper, dogs and sisters.

 
He picks flowers to give to me, and waits expectantly for my smile and hug and enthusiastic "Oh Grady! I love it, it's beautiful! Thank you so much!", and then beams with satisfaction. He loves his mama.
 


Every night I make him promise that he'll never kiss any other girls other than me and his grandmas. "Never ever". So far, so good.

And I tell him that it's totally ok with me if he never wants to grow up, and wants to live in my house forever. He says "are you gonna cook me dinner? Then I'll stay."

Oh, I pray to remember these days, these precious moments. The hands, the eyes, the smiles, the silly, the sweet, the tears, and the sound of his voice.  I pray not to hurry and rush, but to be still and gentle and present. While he still kisses his mama, and loves her cookin', please let me cherish his days.


No comments:

Post a Comment