A MOMENT

I look at my 4 year old sleeping next to me in my bed on Sunday morning. I can't stop touching his little hands and face. His hair is so blonde and spread hither thither across his forehead hiding all his little scars that show he has had a full and busy life thus far. His lips are still so red and childlike with no imperfections. His skin is beautiful and he is at peace. I am filled with love. I am so full that my eyes let it seep out and gather on my pillow. I want to be the first thing he sees when he wakes. I want that smile to be for me. And it is. He is silly and he has a good morning in front of him. My eyes can't stop following him. He seems to glow today. His smiles are so true and inviting and contagious. He is growing up so fast. I can have a conversation with him that is logical, silly or even full of memories that we both share. I am sitting on the couch drinking in his little body that is in constant movement even while he is talking to me. The colors in his clothes-the orange, blue, red stripes seem to be "tide bright." His eyes sparkle and I can almost see his brain working as we talk. And then he romps away to be with his brother and I am left with more seepage and a picture of love that is tatooed on my heart.