Sunday, December 13, 2009

and in that moment i swear we were infinite.





A few years ago on one of our beach days I laid in the sand and watched my two boys play in the waves. Even though they were a good distance away I could hear little giggles from a tiny body over the roar of the ocean. C kicked water at his father and his father pretended he could not catch up with his boy.

Michael scooped up little C and he walked into the water. I could see them starring together into the distance. Michael whispered in C’s ear and C hugged a little tighter and placed his head in the crook between Michael's shoulder and neck. They stayed like that for a bit.

Just father and son.

Ocean and wind.

Salt and sea.

On the drive home as the sun lowered into the skyline and C, still in his wet bathing suit, cuddled up in half a dozen towels, with sand sticking to his toes, dozed in the backseat.

Michael behind the wheel, bare chested, skin warm from the sun said..



"Today I made a memory with Christian."

"Oh yea?"

"Yea I tried really hard to make a moment he would always remember. When we were in the water I whispered in his ear just how much I loved him and why. I hope it worked. I hope he has that memory when he is grown."




Michael is an amazing father. The kind that knows that being a dad isn’t about the toys you bought, the money you made, the car you drove, the college you sent them to, or the clothing you put them in. That it’s about real connection, reading emotions, creating memories. How many of us can say we had fathers that thought their effect on us through? That loved not because they had to but because it’s who they are. Without forcing it or thinking about it or resenting it.

It’s in their blood.

Michael loves like that. My father loved like that. I always wanted it for my children and now I have it and for that I am forever grateful. Because in the scheme of things, when the boys are as old as I am now, they won’t remember what they got for their 6th birthday or whether or not you packed organic veggies in their lunchbox or what brand of bubbles were in their evening bath.

They will recall those little moments, the ones that lasted only a minute or two, and only took a few words or the right look in your eye, when they felt truly loved. It is those memories that will last forever. This is our legacy as parents. It is what we leave our children with when we pass on from this world. A treasure trove of small minutes of time where true love ran through their blood, was inhaled through their breaths, all thanks to us mamas and papas.

" ...and love just like blood will always stain"
(Tilly and The Wall)


I hope that C remembers that moment. and all the others Michael and I have created over the years. I hope he remembers made up stories at bedtime about robots and space men. I hope he remembers playing chess by the fire. I hope he remembers strawberries and pancakes in bed and our Sunday morning coffee breath kisses under the sheets. I hope he remembers swimming in the warm rain. I hope he remembers a cool night under the stars in the forest. Marshmallow still baked onto his lips.

I hope this is what we leave behind for him.

What do you want to leave behind?

6 comments:

  1. love this post i hope devon remembers all the holiday traditions we have strated since waiting in line to see santa for an hour is definiely for him and not me!

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  2. i want to leave behind how in love me nad his father were. i hope he remembers that!

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  3. Those kinds of memories are ones you can recall during lifes tougher moments.

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  4. I really, really love this post. Made me choke up a bit.

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  5. And I will take love over money any day! At the end of your life its what's going ti matter. It's love you leave people with.

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