Lingering Times

I read a post this morning that got me all teary-eyed and walking down memory lane. toddling down contemplation corridor.  It was about the times in my life when I’ve lingered. There are many such times.

The times, recently, that I’ve lingered the most are just before bed. I walk through the house, locking doors, putting dirty dishes in the sink and taking the dogs out one last time before I lay down.  I open my sons door and just linger there a moment, seeing them sleeping. More often than not, I reminisce about the day, thinking of the events and how I could have done them differently.

My eldest son sleeps in the attached garage and, more often than not, I ponder as I’m watching him sleep. I wonder how I can help him get the tools he needs to deal with the anguish that has been thrown his way these past few years. Sometimes I cry, silently, for him. Most times I just feel saddened because the grief he’s feeling now I had hoped never to see in a child of mine. Doesn’t matter that he’s 30…. He’s still my child.

My fifteen year old I watch sleeping, wondering how I can get through to him. He’s growing so fast and has plans to move out when he’s sixteen. My heart breaks when I think about this. He wants to grow up so fast and I just want him home, safe, with me forever. He’s not ready.

Neither am I….

At twelve, my youngest lays asleep on the couch, video controller in hand. I turn off the television, put the controller on the charger and tuck the blanket around his shoulders. He’s so tall now that his feet hang over the end of the couch if he stretches out. I slip back in time, remembering him sleeping as a baby and looking so small. I struggle to hold back the tears as I think of his bravery in dealing with his diabetes. How he’s grown into such a responsible young man in just the past year. I think about his deciding to volunteer at the food bank and wonder how I can nurture that altruistic part of him.

I go to bed, thinking about my children, how different they are from one another and how I can help them become the men they need to be in this horrible world that they have seen way too much of yet not enough of at the same time. I worry… and I pray…… and I let go. A little at a time. Every night, I linger just a moment longer.

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