A Spring of Joy

The sticky notes are all different colors–royal blue, goldenrod, bright orange–but they all say the same thing.

I love you, Mom, so so so so so so much.

They appear on my pillow, my mirror, my computer, and sometimes he just walks right up to me and sticks one on my shirt.

My Bear.

His gentle and peaceful ways touch my soul, and especially when my life and heart feel so chaotic these days, his tenderness is a much needed balm. He has no idea how he reaches me, and every time I see those dimples, my heart just about explodes.

Last night we snuggled in his bed and pretended to fall asleep and snore. Each time one of us would snore or snort, we would dissolve into giggles that probably drove poor Asher crazy as he lay in his bunk above us trying to read. Bear didn’t want it to end, and each time I thought it was over, he’d start giggling again until we ended up just laughing and not even knowing what we were laughing about anymore.

I looked into his green eyes after we had both taken a heavy, happy sigh, and I wondered if he’d remember this moment. He’s old enough to. That’s the part of him growing up that I like–the memories he’ll have and hold onto. But this growing up thing? I don’t like it one bit. Oh, you can tell me it’s good and it’s right and it’s how it’s supposed to be, and I’ll tell you I know that, but I still don’t have to like it.

Nope, not one bit.

This growing up thing.

It’s like holding onto drops.

Only I’m not holding on. I’m opening my hands and holding loosely, because this gift? This boy whose sweetness wins the heart of just about anyone who knows him? He has a life to live, and my holding onto him only keeps him from becoming all that God has for him to be. So I let go, and I discover along with my Bear just who he is supposed to be.

And y’all, let me tell you, it’s fun to learn his life with him. So much fun.

Guess I’m kind of liking this growing up thing a bit, after all.

He turned eight on Monday.

Eight!

I just had to catch my breath again.

Eight?

We’ve spent a lot of time together lately, my Bear and I. We’ve been busy building legos and practicing sketches and reading and cooking (Bear is now the chief scrambled egg maker in our home). We had a date last week and picked up Chick-Fil-A and entered the world of Narnia together, and he curled his little body into mine as we watched. “Mom?” he whispered, halfway through the movie, “This is the most awesomest night I’ve ever had.”

That dear child.

He has no idea.

Often I look at my Bear and think, “There are no words…”

But tonight when I think of my Bear, it seems I can’t stop the flow of words.

So I will end with this, my own little public sticky note…

Happy birthday, my Bear. Thank you. You are making my life the most awesomest ever, and I love you so so so so so so much!