Makes Me Sigh

A Bucket Of Love

Wednesday it was cold and damp and rainy.  Everything, including my mood was  gray, as though someone had pulled the plugged and drained all the color out of my world.

As I’m driving Sean to school,  the noise of tires swooshing through the water and the rhythemic scrape and skritch of my windshield wipers are the only sound in the car.

I pull up to a stop light and look in the rearview mirror at that little boy, snuggled into his car seat. He is thoughtfully tracing the path of a raindrop with his finger on the window.  For some reason, the profile of his face peeking out from the hood of his coat is so sweet that it pricks my heart.  I feel my heart swell and my eyes begin to sting with tears. He doesn’t know that I am watching him.

“Sean,” I hear myself say, “I love you so much, so much more than you can even imagine.  I know you are only four and you can’t really understand that.”

“Oh,” he says quietly without diverting his gaze from the window.  “I understand.”

After a long pause, he asks, “Does Daddy love me too?”

He knows his daddy loves him. I’m not sure why he is asking this question.

“Oh yes, Sean, Daddy loves you so much that sometimes it makes him cry.”


Long pause. I can see him thinking.

“Does Daddy love me more than you?”

This time the long pause belongs to me.

“Well, Sean, things like love and pain are not really quantifiable.  Daddy loves me from the wife bucket and he loves you from the little boy bucket. And those buckets are bottomless and always overflowing.”


Long pause.

“Well if you get a hole in your bucket,” he said, “then I will give you some love from my bucket.”

Sometimes the things he says, makes my brain stop.  Makes my heart stop.  Makes my world stop. 

Just then the car behind me is honking loudly and angrily. The light had turned green.  The tears that had gathered in my eyes quickly evaporate. 

I push on the gas and move forward into the world of gray, except for the very bright spot of sunshine sitting in my backseat tracing a raindrop with his finger.

56 thoughts on “A Bucket Of Love

  1. Bonnie, I keep a little pocket recorder with me in the car when I can’t make a note because I forget in less than 15 minutes. I only remember that it was something I wanted to remember.

  2. It’s moments like those that make nothing else matter. Thank you for that. Now I must go wake my kids and squeeze them with the best hug I can give them……

  3. That was just about the sweetest thing I have ever read. Sons never stop pulling at their mothers’ heartstrings. I just got off of the phone with my oldest son. He is a freshman in college and has just had his first go around with final exams. He called to tell me all about his tests and his grades…and then he said that he couldn’t wait to come home on Monday, and that he has missed me so much. My heart swelled and I teared up. Goodness, I love that boy!

  4. He is so precious! Just makes you want to give him a big hug and never let him go =) Thanks for sharing this moment with us.

  5. What a lovely post. I have had moments just like this one, they are the little moments that make us remember how lucky we really are. I love the way you used the buckets…cute.

  6. I forgot to breathe while reading this post! How amazingly precious!

    And from now on I’ll take a moment to consider what might be transpiring in the car in front of me when the light turns green and no one goes. Maybe they’re just caught up in a very loving moment.

  7. I so know that feeling when you just take a look at your little one, and they don’t know you’re looking, and you just get OVERCOME with emotion at how much you love them!! Great story, thanks for sharing.

    I’ve been reading you for awhile – and appreciate all your entries!

  8. I now have tears in my eyes as I head to pick up my 3 year old from preschool. You can bet her hug is going to be even bigger than usual…and I’ll be thinking of you on our drive home. Thanks.

  9. I just have to comment on this one. That was beautiful! They do have a wonderful and simple way of looking at things, don’t they?

  10. Oh my goodness, AM. I hope hope hope that my mommying skills are a FRACTION of what yours are…and that my boy turns out to be at least a bit as sweet as yours.

  11. I love to look at them when they’re sleeping, too. My big boys are so BIG and manly, at ages 8 and 9, but when they are asleep the look like little angels again. My youngest, Max, will be BIG like that soon, and every chance I get I have a snuggle and kiss him all over. Soon, he will be long and bony, and it just won’t be the same.

  12. I’ve been reading your blog for quite awhile now but have never commented. That story sent instant tears to the eyes. So sweet. I have a 1-year-old boy and can’t wait for those special moments. Thank you for sharing the sweet glimpses into your life!

  13. That was the most touching story…I miss those moments and little talks with my children, when they were snuggled in their carseats. The now, 16 and 20 year olds, are two very busy young people. They both have their cars and are always on the go. I miss those days of their childhood…thank you for the beautiful story.

  14. My little guy is now 34 years old. Your story took me back all those years to when he was 4 and would look at me with his big brown eyes filled with trust and love. He still looks at me that way. I’m sure it will be the same with your little guy.

    Your entries never fail to touch me in some way….although I’m not sure yet about the yard o beef.

  15. If that doesn’t tweak your heart or bring tears to your eyes, then you’ve got a cold, cold heart. Give that sweet boy a bit ole hug from this Nana (who will give her grandkids a big ole hug the next time she sees them).

  16. I just found your blog and am so excited. I love your story about how you became and antique mommy … I too am an antique mommy and am so glad I found you : ) I’ll be back to visit often.

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