Sunday, September 10, 2006

My bittersweet day away from my little man

Two days ago he was fighting to crawl up on my lap and snuggle while the girls were fighting over the remote. He was having none of the conflict raging before us preferring to sit in daddy's lap where the love was, the warmth, the strong arms to hold him.

He's my little Buddha. Yes, he even looks like the Laughing Buddha, the little pudge, arms in the air with the expression of utmost joy and a smile as wide and authentic as the ocean but it's not just the resemblance that makes him my Buddha. From the moment he wakes up until the time he drops immediately to sleep (with that sleep that we can only dream of), he is the happiest child I have ever seen. Blessed with happiness in abundance and an enthusiasm for the here and now, his ebulliance is breath-taking. If I could bottle his spirit to sprinkle on the wounded souls I work with, I'd be the richest therapist in the world.

Today he turned four, a big boy now. It broke my heart that I couldn't be there but it's X's day and I make it a rule not to infringe on her time. Besides, I had My Kids to attend to this evening so there was just no way I could spend my time the way I wanted. All I could do was phone it in and assure myself that we'd have our time together later.

Four years ago I didn't have to phone it in and I remember every blessed moment, him screaming and squealing as they lifted him from the womb, cutting the umbilicle cord, the interminable wait outside the nursery before I was allowed in, caressing my angel's cheek as another boy in the next room howled through a circumcision (assuring my boy he would not have to endure that unimaginable pain). What endures from then was firmly on my mind today, tonight and I'm not sure if I was all there for My Kids as I kept thinking about my little man turning four today. Phoning it in, yes, much like this post.

My little man's milestone demanded that I write a little something to mark this day. The little red fire engine I bought for him will probably end up being sold in a garage sale some day but someday, these words will remain. This is my real gift to him, to say, "I love you, you are the world to me, you are my teacher, my Buddha."

6 comments:

~d (tilde) said...

This is like a puzzle I am slowly putting together. You are a part time Dad? My biological dad and Mom split when I was 2 or 3. He got me 4 weeks in the summer (or more) and a week at Christmas. We never developed a relationship. My mom was wonderful about NEVER sayng anything negative about him: until I said it myself first at 15 or 16. Today-many moons later I respect him and the choices he had to make for his new wife and new child. Yes, there is still some jealousy tied up in there-but mostly respect and understanding. Happy Birthday little man.

freezio said...

Sucks to be an adult sometimes. Espescially when it means that, for whatever reason (in my case it's usually just because I'm overwhelmed by all the balls I've got in the air), you can't be present for the things which give your life real meaning.

Carrie said...

Oh your baby is 4? Don't you love that a childs happiness can almost be contagious? I hope you smother him with love when you get him back.

aka_monty said...

What a lovely tribute to your little man.
I hope you get to see his face on the day he reads that and understands it.

Happy Birthday to the little guy.
And xoxox for you.

landismom said...

Hope your son has a wonderful birthday, both today and when you get to see him next.

Eileen said...

My grandmother used to say bring up a boy was so much easier than parenting girls. I used to think it was because both my mother and were "challenging!" I love being mom to my boy-child! He is probably a bit like your son, always ready with a smile and something playful to say. I used to call him my little Will Rogers, never met a kid he didn't like.

Four was a magical age. It was as though his social toggle switch was flipped to the full-on position. He made new friends everywhere he went that year, still does!

Bask in the beam of sunshine, dear Jim! And hug him tight. Kisses to your birthday boy.