A Spring of Joy

Last night, my Bear came downstairs unable to sleep but moving drowsily. He curled his little body on the couch next to me and leaned into me, half-standing, half-laying while I wrapped my arm around him. I don’t know how long he was there with his head in my lap, but I remember thinking, “I wonder which of us will move first.” Because neither of us wanted to. We just needed to be sure of each other.

“I love you, Bear.” I whispered, stroking his hair.

He murmured back, “I love you, too… so much.”

“Sometimes I wonder if my heart will explode because of how much I love you. You think that could happen?”

He shook his head seriously.

I rubbed his arm and said, “Oh, Beary, my heart is huge. It just gets bigger and bigger every day. It’s full of you.”

His dimples told me he was smiling, although his face was mostly hidden, and my heart grew again. My Bear, this boy who wears his heart on his sleeve and melts the world with his sweetness.

He fills me.

This love. His love, so tender and sweet and gentle and deep.

This child, this gift.

And my Ash who sends me messages telling me how he loves me too much or how he can’t say how much he loves me. My Ash who bears the weight of the world and doesn’t know how to begin to handle it, and when he handles it wrong knows he can come and put his head on my shoulder and tell me how sorry he is and how much he loves me. And my heart grows bigger and fills even more… just watching him walk through the house these days, shoulders bowed, head bent low. He is carrying a heavy load, but he carries it well. It is as if my heart grows with each of his weary steps.

I am so full of him, too.

This love. His love, so intense and ferocious yet tender and faithful.

This child, this gift.

And Bella girl. What to even say? I watched her this morning–watched her skip into the den and curl into her daddy, sitting for a few moments with her arms around his neck whispering her good mornings. Then she turned to me and curled up, patting my back and gently tugging through my hair. Grandaddy appeared in the kitchen calling his good-byes before he headed off to work. She jumped off my lap, ran to him, and leapt into his arms, “I love you, Grandy!” she yelled as he swept her into a bear-hug, and I saw the sparkle in his eyes.

She brightens the world with her spirit, her heart, her passion. So much so that my mom has begun calling her Sparkle-Plenty. Honestly, that just makes me smile. This girl loves to live and loves to love.

She fills my heart.

This child, this gift.

This love. Her love, so joyful and spirited and sparkly and easy.

I snuggle them close and we talk of our hard days–of our snipping and grousing and biting at each other in our exhaustion, and I hold them and say, “We must all pull together and work together and love each other, for if we are at odds with each other and treat each other unkindly, how will we get through these days? Forgive me? Forgive each other?” And they hug and kiss and make up and run off to play and the fights are forgotten and my growls at them are forgiven, and we just love.

And it is beautiful.

This love.

These children. These gifts.

They are from a Father Who sent the ultimate gift…His own child, and my cup overflows with His love.

I am so very blessed…

(And what of my Bri, of the deep love of a man who could not be a better choice for me, a better father for these children, a better gift from God to me? That is a post in and of itself… )