Mother’s Day, and Father’s day have come and gone.
The flowers have wilted, the burgers, steaks, and BBQ have been digested.
The drinks have been imbibed, the hugs and kisses have been given.
The cards have been read, oooh’d over, and proudly displayed.
Hopefully the phone calls, emails, and unexpectedly dropping by have continued.
All of those activities are fine, and good. Me? I remember..
I remember holding you right after you were born. Crying, and sobbing…and I am talking about me here, not you though you were trying to be heard over my caterwauling.
I remember how smooth your skin was. How tiny you looked in my ham-like hands. And how well you fit in my arms.
I remember feeding you. How your lips smacked and pursed as the spoon went into your mouth. How your nose squinched up when you didn’t like the taste of something…like that lemon that I wasn’t supposed to give you but couldn’t help myself.
I remember holding your hand as we waded into the ocean, or the lake. Your squeals of joy as the waves washed over you. I remember how you took to the water at swimming class. Jumping in with no fear whatsoever…..much to the chagrin of your mother and the swim in structor……you have never been one to follow the rules.
I remember the sound of your voice….the chirping as you learned to talk…and then never seemed to stop. I remember the sound of your feet through the house. Starting as thumps and ending up as thuds as you grew older.
I remember wondering where you had gone while your sister and brother played in the pool in the backyard. And you were in the living room dancing to the Spice Girls video.
I remember how fearless each one of you have been. Testing your own invincibility. Testing mine and your mother’s ability not to have a heart attack after your latest exploit. Hanging out with people you should not have. Riding your bike down a slide. You name it, one of you has done it….and I remember it all.
I remember it all. I cherish it all. Not just on Father’s Day, or Mother’s Day, but every day of the year.
The cards and letters, the phone calls, the texts, the visits all have an important place…but I remember.
And I miss your chirping.
I miss the thunder of your feet through the house.
I miss the look of joy in your eyes.
Most importantly I just miss you.