"Be still, and listen," I tell my son as we watch the Dog Star glow. He wonders aloud what we need hear, and I tell him, "Everything."
Our snowsuits creak in the thin, cold air, and a twig snaps as a deer moves away to blend with the gray trees and skirting underbrush. Sam's eyes are wide and round with awe as we step through the new snow. Five fleeting years of unadulterated bliss... having this small handful of tender clay in my life. And I think to myself, I must mold him carefully.
A jet interrupts the fragile tranquility, and it startles him. I stoop to reassure, and explain that there is no harm. That the people are going somewhere, some sleeping, others reading or watching the viewing screen with headphones tight on their heads, sequestering themselves away from fellow passengers. While yet others look out small windows at the dark sky. He asks, but I cannot tell him why.
A cow lows over at the Johnsons' farm. She must want to say hello, I say. We hear the traffic on I-65 humming along. The world never sleeps I tell Sam, who asks if it's bedtime yet. I murmur, "Soon, soon, and we'll have a story with hot cocoa-cocoa too." His laugh of joy is all the 'thank you, Mommy' that I will ever need.
I hold tight the mittened hand of my little boy blue, clinging to the sheer bliss of his company. The snow falls on our faces like Eskimo kisses and blends with the stars to blur the world away. And my son - my love - smiles up at me on this eve of mid winter's night... and God looks down on us.
12 August 2013