As days go by, I am filled with deeper love for TJ and appreciation for a little boy who is so familiar and yet an independent spirit – mine to love and hold, to admire to snuggle, to kiss and hug and to forever remain in awe, in awe of a life that I helped create. How can anyone describe the love one has for her child? Sure eloquent poets and talented writers may succeed at this and describe an indescribable sentiment (in my opinion) and other mortals like me may try as I did above but the depth of one’s love for one’s child feels truly surreal at times, too fragile for fear something untoward might happen – that very fear that is born the minute you find out you are pregnant, a sentiment so deep within one’s heart that all the actions that stem from that love seem superficial only able to touch the surface of that deep sentiment that after all may never actually be exemplified in action. Only felt.
At the neighborhood park yesterday, TJ played a lot with the playground wood chips. Because there was bird poop on the slide, he did not ride it. Instead, he was happy just throwing wood chips on the slide and making heaps of them on other surfaces. While doing so, at three different times, he found three unique items that he presented as gifts to me – more like, “Here mom, I’m not sure what to make of these” but the way I interpreted these items was in terms of how he perceives things before him. These were the items he gave me: a triangular wood chip, a random twig, and a prickly seed.
These were things he found in the mounds of wood chips (seen in the background) and the fact that he picked these out and gave them to me, to me, showed that he values uniqueness, he appreciates patterns and consistency. When the triangular wood chip did not meet the pattern of other chips, he showed it and gave it to me. Likewise with the other things. Perhaps he doesn’t appreciate the difference enough to want to keep it for himself but more positively, he’d rather give up things that others would potentially value (e.g., money, jewelry) and find pleasure in the mundane, the everyday, appreciate the greatness of the ordinary. Now isn’t that just such a wonderful thing! With the rush and pressure of competitive parenting where every parent is falling over the other to get her or his kid ahead of the rest of the sheep, my child tells me he is not ignorant of the differences in our world, he appreciates them just fine but he is a leader of the masses and can find his own ground, his own worth among everybody else. To me that means, “Relax mom, I’ll do just fine in life.” Oh blessed heart, how much I love my child!