This morning before daylight I got a special treat. I'm not talking about the migraine headache that began at 2am and persisted until well after five ibuprofen and sunrise. No. After being awake most of the night, I had given up on sleep, and I was shopping online for new running clothes-- did you know they make really cute running
skirts now? No matter. Near dawn, I heard footsteps on the stairs, and I assumed it was Denver. I left the office to check.
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There on the stairs was my nine and a half year old Spencer. "I had a really bad dream," he said. I put down my coffee cup and led him to the living room. After turning on the fireplace, we sat in the rocking chair with a sleeping bag around us. He didn't want to talk about his dream. So I just began to rock him. We hadn't done that for . . . how long? Months? A year?
As we sat in the dark, cozy comfort of the living room, I began to sing to him. I remembered a favorite song from his infancy. I thought he was asleep. I sang it anyway. Afterward, he hugged me tightly. My Pencie Noo Noo. Almost too big for my lap; but if we wiggle and turn just right, he still fits. Ahhh....and my headache is going away.
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Spencer plays with magnets at the Tellus Museum. |
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