A late night eating cake and laughing with the “girls” had left me rather sleepy this afternoon. The biting cold and the brilliant sunshine were competing for attention. Rake the wayward leaves or warm up in front of the fireplace and let the beams of light stream through the windows? I chose the latter!
Curling under the thick blanket, drifting to dreams, the knock at the door surprised me~ the son.
“What’s for dinner, Mom?”
“Left over sushi, veggies, and white wine. Oh, and cake.”
The son rifled through the pantry until he found a box of Annie’s macaroni and cheese, chili flakes, and hot sauce. At ease in the kitchen, this young man can cook up a macaroni feast! Pots clattering, grater and cheese, fridge door, opening and closing. A symphony to my ears.
Thirty minutes later we are sharing a simple meal, seated together at the table, laughing and chatting about the events of the week. Time is fleeting.
“Gotta go, Mom. I’m heading out.”
“Wish you could stay.”
“I know, but, gotta go.”
Sitting in the silence, I remember the little boy with the big bowl of macaroni and cheese. Some days a dinosaur headpiece greeted me, other times, he’d run into the kitchen, covered in scotch tape and bird feathers~
“I want to fly, mom!”
The little boy did fly through life. The days of childhood seemed never-ending, yet time flew by. If I had known then, what I know now. That once upon a time, long ago, there was a pivotal moment, a heart beat.
In that moment, the briefest beat between child and man, I would be rocking a son to sleep, reading the last story from the favourite book, gently tucking in the ratty, blue blanket. Had I known that last moment, I would never have put the little boy down.