Me, walking down the hallway from our room to the living room. All the lights off in the house. As I walk down, I hear my son singing a dreamy ballad-type song that he made himself, in a high-pitched, falsetto voice. I'm not sure what all the lyrics are, but I do hear him repeat the words "the magic in your heart" a few times. I follow his little voice until I reach the living room. There he is, looking out the window, up at the fireworks in the night sky. His daddy, standing next to him, also looking out the window. As I draw near, my husband and I share a look that says, "that's our son singing that beautiful little song in such a beautiful little voice." His dad, amused and proud. Me, on the verge of tears. Why? You mean, besides the fact that I am a woman?
Well, it is just one of those nights, one of those brief moments when you feel the fullness of the love you have for your child....it swells up in you...and you wish, "man, if only we could slow life down and keep him here, just as he is in this very moment." But, then, you realize that is impossible...and maybe a bit selfish. So, you try to take the moment in, take in every last bit, before it passes and becomes a memory that will come to visit you on those "firsts"---first days of kindergarten, first time he broke a bone, first time he walked home on his own, first time he drove the car, first day at college, first day he fell in love, first day he became a father...so many firsts---- when he takes those BIG steps away from being the kid singing in the window and closer to the man he will become. I love my son and I am just so thankful that I have lived long enough and was fortunate enough to have met him and hope I am fortunate enough to meet him in the future, once more, not as a child but as a man.
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