I haven't been here in a while. My words lost to life. Thoughts pass too quickly to form paragraphs, rarely do they form sentences. The spring season, heated by the nearing of the sun excites the community and the race begins. The race to enjoy summer is in full swing now. The weekends on the calendar marked, counted and etched with pen. A destination, event or to do in each.
Owen's graduation is Tuesday. 5 yr olds in blue gowns and handmade construction paper hats will mark the passing of time, will mark the transition to a new age. He is ready, my little one. The ABC's all memorized, numbers to 20 counted and even a few words can be spelled. That part has never been hard for Owen. The shy little boy who latches to my leg and gives the best hugs is who I was worried for. Secretly I didn't want this to change, for him to grow out of his cuddly shyness. I'll miss the way his cheeks dimple when he sucks on his fingers, his blanket tucked under his nose. But he must, and he has. There isn't a tentative step in the boy's feet, there is purpose. He runs on strong legs and I watch him grow with each step.
September will be here too soon. I doubt he'll look back when he climbs the steps onto the bus. His blanky will have to be left behind. I may suck my fingers and hold in under my nose for the day as comfort. It's smell. I love the smell. My baby boy.
1 comment:
"but he must, and he has." the hardest, proudest thing, somehow.
this was lovely. happy graduation to Owen.
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