I can’t cradle this boy in my arms so much anymore. I miss that intimacy.
But I can spend a rainy morning sitting on the kitchen floor with him, side by side, painting giraffes. We are two artists doing our thing together, without the intrusion of spoken word.
Hanging out together — this is the new intimacy that binds us. It is not flesh to flesh, but it is nourishing and it is satisfying.