your hair is matted into damp tangles.
the skin of your neck is hot, and it stinks.
legs thrash, blankets twist and bed creaks.
your little arm flails out --
fingers find my face and grip hard.
thrashing stills,
breath steadies,
grip loosens.
i heave in, ready to sigh for freedom of sleep.
i heave out, but my sigh has turned to gladness for these bonds:
Well said. This is what it's all about.
ReplyDeleteha. yes what a blessing to be a parent...
ReplyDeletewow, vivid picture and great ending!
ReplyDeleteVery evocative, I was worried for him right away...
ReplyDeletehmm so lovely the job of mom :)
ReplyDeleteYou describe motherhood so well.
ReplyDeletebeautiful, really beautiful.
ReplyDeleteoh, put the feverish one to bed tonight...aren't they just so dear and helpless when sick...yes, the bond of mama's.
ReplyDeleteand p.s. must hope and pray that you understood my crazy series of e-mails...oh my, THANK YOU FOR GRACE FRIEND!
poor baby. :( it's yucky. i saw you almost cry when you were here with him on tuesday. stupid germs!!
ReplyDeleteoh, girl, i felt his pain, and then, the exquisite relief of knowing mom is near, and she is all one needs. i hope you all find healing and rest dear bethany.... and thank you so much for your email. i'm going to respond, i really am... :) love you.
ReplyDelete