In these tender moments I marvel at my reality, you here
with me.
Now you are my teddy bear, a growling, grinning bundle
that fits just so in my arms.
Even so, you are growing, tumbling out of babyhood into
more and more boy-ness. You stretch and roll and reach and I cannot contain you
as I once did. I cannot hold all of this life, and I was never meant to, but I
catch my moments when I can. That crooked smile of contentment, that chubby arm
around my neck, that face buried soft in mine. Moments turn into days, and days
fly by quick as autumn’s leaves.
The seasons shift and you shape into the boy you will be,
the boy with a heart of a bear, and I pray for strength in all this
shape-shifting. You will outgrow my arms and one day I may fit in yours, and
that is the pain and joy of mothering a son; that is the reality we share.
Know that my arms will always be open and my prayers will
always be fierce and my strength will never be enough, but His will be and we
will both tumble into that.
~lg
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