Category Archives: children

When you all go together.

Everywhere.

When you are keeper of all things sacred and important.  Bed times.  Christmas traditions.  Night night songs.

When your pockets are full of treasures…  Rocks.  Broken toys.  Love notes.

You take your sunshine with you.

It’s portable.

You carry it on your hip.  Hold it’s hand in yours.

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Kathy, Im lost. I said, though I knew you were sleeping.  I’m empty and aching, and I don’t know why.

Sometimes this Simon and Garfunkel line goes through my mind, over and over again.  It moves me, these few simple, raw words.  Last night, they were swimming through my mind as the boys and I were getting ready for bed.  I kissed my babes all goodnight, after wiggling Harry’s tooth a dozen times. He was sure it was ready to come out, I was sure it was not.  I kissed them all, said prayers.  Then I came downstairs and listened to Simon and Garfunkel in the quiet, semi dark.  Chris was out of town, and it was just me.  The song, “America” turns my heart inside out.  I don’t know why…  It stirs the marrow of my bones.  Makes my heart ache and bleed out of me.

Kathy, Im lost. I said, though I knew you were sleeping.  I’m empty and aching, and I don’t know why. 

 I never really thought about it much before, but it may be that I really relate the duality of the lyrics.  Here he is, going along, enjoying his life.  Loving his adventure.  But, also.  When it’s quiet, and it’s safe, and no one can really hear…  He can admit the other truth.  The simultaneous truth.

Kathy, Im lost. I said, though I knew you were sleeping.  I’m empty and aching, and I don’t know why.

Harry came down the stairs, grinning.  Blood on his fingers.  Proudly holding his square white tooth in his hand.  I looked at his sweet face and tears spilled out of my eyes.  He’s so beautiful, so unbearably beautiful.  Funny, and silly, and irresistible.  Now his smile will never be the same.  With that front baby tooth gone, his impish smile will begin the inevitable change.  His adult teeth will come in, his face will mature, and he will grow up.  It makes me ache, and laugh, and weep all at once.  “It’s okay, Mom.”  He wrapped his arms around me and hugged me tight.  “I know.  You don’t want me to grow up.  You love me so much, and want me to stay little.”  Yes.   You’re right.   I want you to stay little.  But I love watching you grow.  I love hearing you read.  Seeing you play and be silly.  Watching your love for math and drawing blossom.  I’m so full of love for you, I can’t hold it all in.  I burst into tears when you pull out a tooth, I love you so.  But also…  Sometimes…

I’m empty and aching, and I don’t know why. 

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Sometimes…  It’s unspeakably hard.

But the joy.  That’s unspeakable too.

When the wind blows through your hair, and the sunshine kisses the bridge of your nose.

Unspeakable.

When you hold your sister’s hand, because you know she’s nervous around new people.  You’re so big for one so little…

Unspeakable.

This huge, acing, deep, glorious love that I carry around in my chest for you.  Every waking moment.  Every sleeping moment.  All my moments.

Unspeakable.

My mind was focused on packing up, getting ready to leave in fifteen minutes for a client session across town. The boys were eating dinner in a strange combination of the pajamas they wore the night before, dirty faces, tangled hair, and red satin capes. “Hey, you and the boys should come with me!” Deadpan look in response. This is your kryptonite. It’s the worst of everything. Wrangling the boys to get in the car wearing real clothes, taking them anywhere they should act like humans and not a wolf pack, AND doing it all while being photographed. “Oh, we don’t have to. It’s fine. You work so hard all week, you don’t have to do this on your weekend.” You shook your head at me and headed for your closet. “Oh, yes I do. Don’t use your Jedi mind tricks on me.” As ever, we were a storm of chaos. I didn’t have my tripod. Fart jokes aplenty. And we almost ran out of gas on the highway. We party hard, the Evans Clan.

I am a frustration to Grandmas and Great Aunts everywhere.  I don’t take photographs of everyone looking at the camera and smiling perfectly.  I mean, I can…  But I rarely do.  It just isn’t what melts my butter.  Doesn’t light my fire.  Doesn’t flip my boat.  I’m not interested in perfection…  It doesn’t exist.  But I’ll tell you very quietly, very softly what does exist.  What does exist, is you.  You and your love.  That’s what is real.  That’s what is true, and is honest, and what is lovely.  That’s what I see with my magic camera.  I see what you don’t.  You see how you’re barely making it.  How your house is a mess.  You see your long to do list with no check marks.  Not enough, not enough, not enough.  That’s what you see.

 

Ahh, but I have a magic camera.  I see the truth that is hidden beneath.  I see what is real.  Then I get to show it to you.

You see this?  See how much you love each other?  See that look in your eyes?  See the way he looks at you?  You ARE enough.  You are imperfect, and you’re fumbling, and you are enough.

And you’re going to be okay.

You’re all going to be okay.

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