Merry Christmas To All And To All A Good Night

mapping the vault of memories

Children laugh a lot. It is a beautiful thing.

A few nights ago, I heard my son laugh from upstairs. The laughter tinkled merrily down the stairs from up high to down where I was standing in the kitchen. It was the laugh of a four year old – giddy, unrestrained, and in those chucklesome, high-pitched, and somehow fairy-like tones that only children that young can achieve.

That night I heard the free, sincere, heartfelt laughter of my son, and I had a thought, suddenly. It hit me without consideration and washed over me harshly. It did not care what I was doing when it came on, or where it would leave me after it fled into the night beyond me.

And the thought was this:

There will come a day when I will not be so privileged as to hear that sound anymore as a common occurrence in my life, my day to day What Is, my moments possible to take for granted (even though I don’t want to). There will come a time when that laugh does not even exist anymore.

There will be a day when forever more I will not be able to hear that sound. His laughter will still be accessible to me (sometimes) but it will never sound that way again. It will become lost forever in the vault, deep and wide and sometimes difficult to navigate, that contains my lifetime of memories.

And memories have this awful way of fading and being so hard to recall in a tangible way, so hard to truly feel in the same way as they were once experienced.

I stood there, at the foot of the stairs, frozen in that moment. I stood there, playing that brief sound over and over in my head, savoring it. I was all alone, and may have nearly appeared catatonic in that moment of true consideration and revelation.

Braden may never know that he’s ever done something so simple but so incredibly and effortlessly meaningful that it captivated his mother so greatly. He might not realize that she once stood quietly relishing the joyous beauty of a 3 second laugh he uttered about a little bit of something more than nothing that faded into the night without him giving it another passing thought.

When I write these moments, it is like I’m drawing a map to put up on the inside of that vault, so that when I dive into it later, so much later, maybe I can find these most important of thoughts and feelings, these memories of the most golden days, and hold them near me again for a few moments.

And I will know.

And now you do, too.

Taking the heart road.

Sometimes Braden (now age 4.5) asks me how to say things in Spanish. I go to this website and we enter words and then we learn now to say them together. He especially enjoys the feature where you can actually listen to a pronunciation of the word. Unfortunately, however, he gets really frustrated when we encounter a Spanish word with an “r” in it, and he can’t say it exactly the same way. I’ve tried to help him learn how to roll his r’s, but he hasn’t been successful yet.

Today he asked how to say “tree” in Spanish. The answer is “arbol.” He became very frustrated about the sound of his r’s again. I began encouraging him to keep trying, but he just kept telling me, “NO, because I CAN’T do it.” This prompted me to launch into a long discussion with him about how you have to keep trying when you can’t do something the first time, rather than giving up, if you really want to learn it. I even gave him examples from my childhood.

(I totally went through torturous and seemingly endless trials in front of the bathroom mirror to learn how to roll my tongue. I was going to be damned if my brother could do that and I could not, and refused to believe the BS idea everyone was feeding me that it’s a genetic trait and you can’t do it unless you inherit that. IN YO FACE, FALSE POP SCIENCE.)

Braden indicated he didn’t agree with my sage advice about trying and learning. So I told him that he can take a slightly easier path and trust my advice, or he can be stubborn and take the hard road through life. He considered this for a few moments, and replied, “I think that instead, I am going to take the heart road, Mommy.”

Me: “What?”
Braden: “I’m going to take the heart road instead.”
Me: “Oh? What is that road like?”
Braden: “It has lots of heart patterns on it. Red ones and pink ones too, and I like them. And lots of heart rocks. And heart shaped trees.”
Me: “How does that make you feel?”
Braden: “It makes me feel so happy.”
Me: “And where does this road lead?”
Braden: “It leads to everywhere you want to go. And there are stars racing in the sky.”

My friends, the heart road is paved with red and pink heart patterns, strewn with heart rocks, and lined with heart shaped trees. It will make you feel happy, stars will race in the sky overhead as you travel, and it leads to “everywhere you want to go.”

I guess being happy on “the heart road” is better than being miserable while struggling to learn rolling your r’s in the long run, huh? This kid kind of totally disarms me every damn day. And he really has no idea how brilliant these things he says really are.

I’m still a firm believer in trying for the things you desire, but I’m glad to have someone in my life who reminds me it’s not always a bad idea to voluntarily take the heart road.

Sharing my joy.

Every single time I look at these, I feel pure joy. Thought I’d share that with all of you.
You don’t mind a little joy in your life today, do you? *wink*

Happy Saturday!

Wonder. #reverb10

During December, I will be reflecting on my year and manifesting what’s next by participating in Reverb 10. Maybe you’d like to join me?

December 4 – Wonder. How did you cultivate a sense of wonder in your life this year? (Prompt Author: Jeffrey Davis)

There are two things which are a large part of my life that help me maintain a sense of wonder on a regular basis: my photography habit and my son.

I am very rarely far from a camera, and am very often photographing the world around me, from the spectacular to the mundane.

What I have developed over many years of doing this is an ability to actually notice things that I used to take for granted.  The longer I do this, the easier it has become for me to see the small things in life, things which contain such huge beauty if only you notice them for what they are.

It is an amazing gift that is bestowed upon the habitually practicing photographer, and one that I will always be grateful to possess.

Every day is full of things you do  not expect… practice awareness.

Part of that lies in having a sense of wonder, and that really needs flexing, too!  Luckily, my second muse helps with that.

If you’re a parent who pays attention to the way your child sees the world, you know what I mean when I credit my son with helping me cultivate and maintain a sense of wonder.  His viewpoint continually renews my ability and desire to explore, discover, believe, enjoy, and love.

“Mommy, that beetle is not moving.”

“Yes, I see that.”

“Why is he not moving?  I think something is wrong.  What is wrong?”

“Well, that beetle is dead, honey.”

*pondering silence*

“Well, then, we should recharge his batteries, so he can have energy again.”

The world is full of possibilities for him, that I have long ago let go of or disbelieved.  It’s nice to turn that back when I see the wonder and potential for all things in his eyes.  It truly is catching, and even if I can’t fully believe all things he still considers (like recharging the batteries of the dead), he opens my spirit and mind to so many possibilities again that I wasn’t just not believing anymore, but that I wasn’t even imagining.

He has given me, in many ways, a ticket to ride back through my own youth. That is the height of wonder.

How have you cultivated/maintained a sense of wonder this past year?

Gettin’ his Spidey on.

When we arrived at the pumpkin patch last week, I asked Braden if he would like a face painting. “Yes!” Of all the options, including many small and cute cheek-sized designs, guess which one he chose?

And there was that moment when I realized I’d suggested this face painting business right at the beginning of the day.  There would be no pumpkin patch photos of him – just Mini Spiderman.  Just one moment.

Because on the heels of that I laughed inside and remembered, as always, that what is most important is not the appearance, but the experience.

Spiderman had a great day at the pumpkin patch.

This is what happens when I go to the bathroom to pee.

When I left the room he was making lovely drawings in his notebook.

If I’d had to take a dump, do you think he’d have progressed to his arms and face?

And then he was 4.

braden,

once upon a time on Valentines day I got a wonderful present

confirmation that you existed

the world has looked different every day since then

sometimes more fierce, sometimes softer, in spite of itself

because of you

the days have flown faster than I ever knew they could

and despite what I say about wanting you to slow down

i am also eager to see who you will be tomorrow

and the day after that

and the days and months and years after that

i know that before long

in fact
it will seem
like the blink
of an eye

i will have my answer

so many of these flying days will stack up against one another

that you will be a man

a man!

but for now I still get to be your hand holder and your scare chaser

your cheek kisser and your hair smoother

the one who you wake up in the morning and who puts you to sleep at night

and I get to sit by you at the table and watch you

as you flex your muscles while eating a carrot

your eyes lighting up with imagination and magic as you say

i will eat my vegables and then i will grow to be a strong, big daddy!

and then i will be a growned up!

right, mommy?

yes, baby
one day

but not yet today.

Happy Birthday, my beloved!
The world may sometimes seem fierce

but it will never be quite as fierce as you.

Love, Mommy