September 28, 2017
I arrived home from work before they made it home from school, so I watched out the window for them to emerge around the bend in the road. I walked down the driveway and out in the cul-de-sac. I saw him see me, my oldest, and I could hear him singing a song with my name. He couldn’t hold back anymore, and his legs little legs broke into a run. Backpack bouncing, toothless grin shining, he bounded into my arms. His cheeks were glowing with affection, and his excitement to see me couldn’t be contained. All restraint was shed, any hint of masked emotion, relinquished. In that moment was pure, joyful abandon.
I feel like with Zachary, he thinks I am never doing right by him. He feels that I am being unfair, or too harsh. He also is not as free with his emotions, more reserved. So when a moment like this occurs and all defenses are down, my mama heart drinks in every drop of his blatant display of affection.
Sweet relief. Unburdening of all my worries. My arms are barely able to lift his lanky almost seven year old body anymore. With my change in the day’s routine, he is caught off guard enough to freely offer me details from his day. It’s times like this that encourage me, that “fill my bucket” as the boys’ Kindergarten teacher likes to say.
I think sometimes we moms tend to try to “create” these perfect scenarios that will be memorable to our family. But what I find is that the events I try to orchestrate, or plan all the details, can end up falling flat or turn out as a disappointment. It’s these unexpected, spontaneous occasions that are worth the most because they are so genuine.
I probably won’t be able to duplicate that moment again, and to my point, I guess I shouldn’t try to force it. So I eagerly await that blessing, and pray that it greets me soon.