Written Thursday, November 11th, 2010:
It’s 7:46pm. Brad is in New Zealand for the night. The wee ones are fast asleep in their beds up the creaky stairs, surrounded by silky comforters and fluffy bears. North’s cheeks are probably flushed, his hair twirled into a whirlwind, his thumb has probably gently fallen out of his mouth by now. Indigo’s shallow and silent breaths are filling the basket beside our bed. She is double-wrapped to ensure her houdini hands don’t escape and flail around, waking her from her peaceful slumber.
I made these two gorgeous and innocent creatures. From conception to birth I helped them grow.
I sustain these beautiful, compassionate and pure beings. I provide. I love. I kiss. I comfort. I feed their little mouths, their little minds, their little souls.
I protect them as best I can. From falls down stairs, from bees, from hot ovens, from overstimulation, from UV rays, from growing up too fast, from everything that is wrong and sad in this world. When they hurt, I hurt. I feel for them and with them.
Sometimes I am so overwhelmed by the responsibility of being a parent. By these two spirits who came to me in perfection and who I will influence as positively as I can, but who I will, and life will tarnish.
Tonight as I sit back, take a breath and be thankful, I remind myself that nothing lasts forever. They will some day, too soon, grow up and live without me. But in this moment, I love them totally and utterly. They complete me, and I complete them.
What a wonderful stop in this blessed journey called life.