"I got some extra in case someone loses their's," he says with such seriousness as he walks outside to join his sister and our neighbor.
I watch him as he walks away.
His green bug boots, reaching his shins stand out against his pale, stocky legs. They just miss the edge of his black Nike sports shorts.
His legs, a bit cumbersome thanks to the added weight, bow a little as he meanders down the hill with heavy steps.
Meandering is his way.
There is such a sweetness about him as I watch him. I can't help but stare at him. This little stocky boy. He turns around to give me a smile. My mind grabs it and hides it away. A memory quickly embedded.
I drink him in for a moment longer. All too soon this little boy will be a man. His childlike ways will be gone. This Grant, this three year old Grant, will be gone. A stranger. A new, more mature Grant will slowly emerge. A man will emerge from this little, awkward, but oh so sweet body. And I don't want to forget. So I stand a bit longer. I try to remember this moment, his movement that embodies him.
A picture would not do this moment justice.
And so I write. To remember. To hold onto that moment. To that little Grant that captures my heart. To keep a piece of him that will soon be the past, in the present. To keep this Grant from becoming all to quickly a stranger.
3 comments:
I love your description of your little guy. You have such a way of capturing your children in words and remembering - the preciousness of those little moments that you will remember for a lifetime.
You said so well what I so often think but can't put into words the beautiful way that you did. You will treasure being able to look back at those words one day, and so will Grant! Beautiful!
So sweet that it brought tears to my eyes. We are all unique, but all mama's hearts seem to feel the same things- I so often stop and try to embed a moment with my daughter into my memory.
They are so fleeting, these precious moments.
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