Fingering Memories

I spent part of the day going through the drawers in The Boy's dresser. One of those clean-outs that are necessary more often than they are performed. The hard part is actually making the decision to get rid of too-small clothes. It's strange how items of clothing make memories.

I found a couple of Spiderman shirts. These are several sizes too small, but they survived previous clean-outs by virtue of having Spidey on them. The Boy has turned 9 now, and he is much too mature for superhero T-shirts.
But these hold memories of another time, a whole other childhood. A childhood that had a little more wonder, when he was a little boy, and not a "kid".

It's hard to put the memories aside, harder still to let go of them as they grow.

I did fairly well, considering. I managed to turn up a lost video game and one of my books that I haven't seen in enough years that it's worth reading again.

I also managed to weed out the ill-fitting clothes and made room for the ones he actually wears. It was a brief, shining moment of useful behavior. I hope I can avoid doing it again for a long time.

Little Boy Love

It's easy as a working mother to get caught up in the stresses of daily life, the schedules, the necessities of the moment - kids and school, mealtimes, worktimes. At times, you forget the wonderful things, the sweet joy that children can bring.

I was wandering through some earlier writings, some of which are on another blog I had started years ago and I found this story. It reminded me that the big 2nd grader who lay across my lap this morning while waiting for his ride to school, was once the little boy whose entire world was his mother. As daunting a responsibility as it can be to fulfill the role of "the world" to another human being, it is also very heart-satisfying. And so I am re-printing this story here, cause it brought a smile to my face this morning. It was called "The Appeal of Younger Men".

They strolled through the store, occasionally plucking a wanted item from a shelf and placing it in their cart.They chattered constantly in a happy banter, punctuated occasionally by lighthearted laughter. A white-haired woman leaning on her cart giggled slyly as she watched the young man reach out and take his love's hand.

He held it up to his cheek, guided its caress, his eyes closed, experiencing only the warmth of her touch, whispering a gentle "I love you". She drew closer to him, her lips grazed the hand that held hers. "I love you too". He was obviously so young, his face smooth and open with expectation . Her face wore a look of experience but her eyes shone with the love and purpose he had created within her. The elderly woman smiled as their carts passed, gave them a knowing wink as she remembered a life long gone by.

The scene was repeated throughout the store, young love demanding sometimes a hug, at times stealing a kiss. They were no different than other twosomes; perhaps it was his eyes and smile that drew attention to them, for he was beautiful in every way. She knew some envied her his ardor.

Shopping done, they retreated to their car. As she drove, his voice called from the back seat.

"Mom, can I kiss your hand"? She laughed and extended her right arm behind her. "Here, have at it". "Mom, you're so beautiful", he said as he kissed the hand she had given him. She glanced at the five year old in the back seat and thought "That kid is so smooth, gonna have to watch him when he grows up".