Scenes from an eternal summer

Time Out

It’s seven in the morning, spring forward time. There is barely light outside my window. A gentle blast from the centralized heater cuts through the silence. I know he’s stirring. He is half way between dreaming of zooming red cars and calling out for his Daddy and Mommy. I wonder what he’ll do when he finds out that the hand caressing his back is mine? I put my hand on his back lulling his restless breathing to a safe sound rhythm. He turns his head and gives a startled look, eyelashes struggling to break free from being squished tight by dried tears from last night’s whimpering. And then he recognizes me … “Tita?” He closes his eyes again and stretches to awaken his lanky frame. His morning ritual has begun. MY morning ritual has begun.
Days usually start off like this- calm, sweet and full of promise. With amazement I seek to unlock the mystery of his boundless energy. What will he do for the first time today? But there are also days when I wish I could curl up back into the pull out sofa bed in the guest room adjacent to the nursery and get another five minutes of snooze. But my time is not my own here. I have to synchronize it to his. Tyler’s clock is always on time. His young body all wound up, he has no moment to spare, all set to go! The day runs its course with very little supervision or expectation. There are no loud alarms or chimes to call my attention to a task that must be done. Nevertheless, the clock rightfully belongs in the hands of my precious charge I have no control of its clockwise sequence.
As the second hand ticks I find myself at living in “moments.” Moments that are immeasurable as they are hard to hold on to, measure, and sometimes difficult to replicate. These moments are what make my time out from my own life comforting. There are moments of utter joy when Tyler puts his check next to mine and demand for “more kisses.” There are also moments of understanding when I pass wet wipes to my sister’s hand in the mall restroom baby changing area without any exchange of words. There are moments of kindness when my brother in law hands me the TV remote control. And of course there are quiet moments when I just let the warm water soothe me in the bath.
The fact is this last month has been this slow drone of a heartbeat, and it is pulling me into its comfortable embrace, a time out from my fast yet still dreary existence. It scares me to say that I am contented to fall into its two-step. I fear that I never want to get back into the tick of the remnants of my life. Do I want to go back home? When I’m here I live by everybody else’s schedule except my own. I find this a rather pleasing concept since I have followed my own schedule for thirty-one long years and I still am amazed at how little my own timepiece has obtained value. But now, free from my daily calendar planner I feel as though each second has more meaning than my own hours.

posted by SmellMyKnee @ 8:54 PM