A Moment

Here I am. I am here. Always here. Nowhere else but here.
As I watch
I am touched.
Deeply.
The simple act
of a small boy gently and lovingly
kissing
his older sister’s arm.
Unprompted.
Unencouraged.
Completely welling up
from within
and expressed unapologetically
as only young children can.
And the gesture
received receptively.
Quietly.
Graciously.
From the same loving child-place.
As I watch I am brought to tears,
as the late-in-the-day children
join the adults
effortlessly and sweetly.
Draping gently across laps and shoulders,
moving from one adult to another for connection.
A foot.
A perfect foot.
Upside down,
layered over Mom’s ankle,
moving in rhythm together to the music.
A small gesture,
but a deep moment of casual intimacy -
unpracticed and pure.
As the music continues
and the hand symbol for “I love you”
is attempted
(but turns out looking more like “Rock’N’Roll”)
amidst the makeshift drum kit of overturned boxes and a long metal threaded rod;
voices singing in harmony and off-key,
words sung,
words mumbled,
some extra la-tee-dahs.
Tunes found, the chords forgotten,
picked up by the next.
A new and old camaraderie.
A lovely collection of souls touching.
One more greeting as a group.
Before the last parting.
Children being sent to do child-focused things.
Hugs to Mom before scampering off on another adventure.
And then...
a gesture...
after stopping suddenly,
arrested by a thought....
remembering...
half turning back to look and then giving Mom the “I love you” gesture...
in secret communication...
a pure moment of deep intimacy,
encouragement,
knowing.
A moment forever etched in a mother’s heart,
sweetness beyond words;
a moment beyond time.




S.A. Birdsall, July 2012