How do I love thee

-
Today my Josh is ten years old.

I am amazed every day at the things he can do. He started out this sweet little silver-eyed boy


and grew into a chocolate-eyed manchild.


Sometimes I can see him standing on the edge of childhood, perched and ready to leap into life and it frightens me. I want to hold on to him for a while longer, I want to kiss his smooth, chubby cheek and listen to his out-of-control giggles. I want him to stay my Joshy-boy forever.

I know that there are many things that are not easy for him to do. I hope he never gives up, even when its hard to find a way to keep going. I hope he believes in himself, thinks for himself, hopes for himself, and reaches as far as he possibly can. He has an amazing imagination, a vivid world full of pretending and games and fears. I hope that never fades away.

Joshua's Gramma Annie lived for him. If not for him, she would have stopped fighting for her life a long time ago. The days we shared with her were very precious, and those days were - in large measure - lived for Josh. He was the light of her world, nothing had more meaning than his smile, his hugs, his love. She believed in him, she saw the brimming potential he has.

I never imagined it would be this hard to be a parent. I want to run and rescue him from every fight, I want to cure every hurt, I want to teach every lesson, hear every laugh, wipe every tear, celebrate every victory. I have never been so angry, so sad, so happy, so scared, so confused as I am when I look at my son from day to day. I feel so incredibly blessed to have my beautiful boy, so amazingly lucky.

Before Josh stumbled off to bed at 2 a.m. I had him take this little quiz that I found on another blog. You answer some questions and select pictures that you feel represent your answers. It was a fun little exercise and I think the pictures he picked sum him up pretty well.


However, I think this picture from 2005 says just as much about my brown-eyed boy:


How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with a passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, -- I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life!-- and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

~Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Dear Carly,

-
Image
I assume that one day you will come to me wanting to know who you are, where you came from, where your other family is and why they gave you to us.  I offer you little bits of information already, but certainly not crumbs enough to satisfy the appetite.  Perhaps it won't matter to you.  I am assuming a lot, already, about how adoption will impact your life. People often wonder why adoptive parents are hurt when their children seek out biological roots.  I have the answer, and it's very simple.  Adoption - at its core - makes us question the legality, authority, voracity, and validity of parenthood.  For most adoptive parents, first you must come to terms with an issue that strikes at the foundations of mortality: fertility.  From birth, most of us are driven to form families.  First we are nestlings, nurtured and weened and eventually taught to fly.  Then we are nest-builders, filling our lives with the stuff necessary to drive life forwar...
Read more

M is for Mother

-
Motherhood is more than carrying a child in your womb for 9 months. Motherhood is more than daily wiping of noses, cleaning of faces, filling of bellies. Motherhood is more than driving, shopping, cleaning, cooking. Motherhood is part of being a Woman, but not all of it. It is part of growing up, for some of us. It is conducive to gaining appreciation, but not for everyone. I was still a child myself, really, when I became a Mother. Joshua and I did a lot of growing up together. We both learned a lot about sacrifice. I learned how to say good-bye to him in the morning, he learned that separation from Mother wasn't such a bad thing after all. Especially since he got to go to Grandma's house (which, sorry Disney, was the happiest place on earth). I learned I could love someone until my heart might burst and be completely enraged at the same time. He learned that the wrinkling of my forehead was not a good sign for anyone. We learned a lot about time, more specifically abo...
Read more

thirty two

-
Image
Today is the big day, the day when I roll over from 31 ( just barely old) to 32 (aka old and can't deny it) . The funny thing is, I don't feel 32. I feel just like I did at 22, just maybe a little less scared. There are a few gray hairs tucked in the brown, there are a few wrinkles under the chubbiness of my 'baby face'. I can't say that I'm feeling the aches and pains of a body weighed down by years. I don't. Except perhaps my ankles which are stiff in the mornings from my bad habit of tripping on my own feet . The march of years is fairly kind to us, I think. We feel the same though our bodies keep climbing that mortal hill. Today I'm going to celebrate being alive . I'm going to eat good food, share good company, laugh while I tickle my kids. I'm going to take a long nap (hopefully) and just be glad for one more day, one more week, one more month, one more year. Oh, and I'm going to sport this super cute and sassy hair cut curteousy of ...
Read more