I held his hand tighter as I felt him shake. “Please don’t leave me, I don’t want to stay,” he said. And I wanted to kneel down to him and wrap my arms around him and whisper, “No, of course you don’t have to stay. We will go home to the backyard, to the sunshine and grass. We will count the ants as they march to their hill, and we will lay on our backs and tell the stories of the shapes in the sky. We will hold hands as we jump together into the pool, and laugh as we roll down the hill.”
I longed to hold onto the days that the sun rose and set with just his brother, his daddy, his mommy. I longed to slow the inevitable separation that another year older would only bring closer. But instead of following my breaking heart, I looked him in the eye, pasted a smile to my face, and said, “You’ve got this, buddy. It will be so much fun! Your friends are all here — look! Here comes one now!” And somehow, before I was ready, I felt his hand slip away from my own, and he was across the room in a flash. Just like that, his nerves were calmed, his enthusiasm fanned, his need for me, gone.
I waved and blew him a kiss as I backed out the door, my eyes bright with the tears I refused to let flow.
I am so glad you put these on your blog. I am glad they are all together. Besides that, it is just so beautiful.