Hands
January 9, 2008 | Always Real, Faith, Makes Me Sigh
The other night, in the wee small hours of the morning, I tiptoed into Sean’s room to check on him. I’m way beyond the days of checking on him 3 or 4 or 20 times a night to see if he is still breathing as I did those first several months of his life. Yet sometimes, something invisible gently stirs me into wakefulness and calls me to his room in the middle of the night to look at him.
Sure enough all was well. His little boy form, bathed in the amber glow of the nightlight lay peaceful and motionless.
As I turned to leave, I heard him whisper, “Mommy, will you lay down with me?”
“Sean, I didn’t know you were awake. Why are you awake?”
“Will you?” he pleaded with a desperate catch in his voice, “Will you please lay down with me? For a little while?”
“Sure” I said. “Move over.”
And so he did.
I should say here, that the bed Sean sleeps in is not really a big boy bed or even a youth bed. It is basically a crib six inches off the ground. It is so tiny it is straight out of The Three Bears and I am Goldilocks. If I contort myself just right I can snuggle up with him in this tiny bed. If I lay there much longer than 20 minutes, I can’t feel any of my limbs or walk upright the next day, but it’s a small price to pay, temporarily paralysis in exchange for snuggling.
I wedged myself in beside him. With his head tucked under my chin, he squirmed and squiggled and shifted until he had sufficiently pressed his bony backside into my tummy, just as he did in the days that I carried him in my body. He reached around for my hand and pulled it across him like a belt and then he wove his fingers between mine.
“Here’s the church,” he yawned. “Here’s the steeple….”
And then he gave up, too tired to continue.
Then, with his other hand, he covered our interlaced fingers. It struck me as an odd thing for a four-year-old to do. It was an old man sort of thing to do, this nestling of my hand, like a bird, into his two small hands.
In the thinning morning darkness, I watched him stroke and pet our clasped hands as he drifted back to sleep. I flashed upon that day in 2003 when I first saw his hands on the sonogram – tiny, shaky, translucent fingers reaching for the light of this world and then shielding his eyes from the harshness of it.
I thought of how those little hands reached out for me as he took his first unsteady steps. I wondered how many more times he will seek my hand. Before he won’t. Dear God, bless me, that I might always be there to hold his hand and steady him as he goes, for as long as he needs me.
Then I flashed forward to the appointed day when that one clear call is for me. And on that day, it will be my shaky, translucent fingers that reach for the light of the next world and then shield my eyes from the glory of it. Dear God, bless me, that he might be there to hold my hand and steady me as I go into that great goodnight.
In that moment, and just for that moment, I felt as though I understood something of eternity.
Finally his hands stopped moving. He had fallen back to sleep. I slowly extricated myself from the tiny boy and the tiny bed. I stood over him for a moment, praying over him, that goodness and mercy will surely follow him all the days of his life.
I never tire of looking at him.
I hobbled back to bed.
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Oh Dear Lord girl, you got me crying in my office this morning already.
That was the most beautiful, touching and comforting post I have ever read. Thank you so much. My little guy is now 12 going on 20. Last night he asked me to sit next to him on his bed - I don’t know how many more times I am going to be asked, but like you I am going to take each one and enjoy every single milisecond of it.
Roxanne
January 9th, 2008 at 10:46 amTake care and have a wonderful day.
You are such a great writer. Thanks for writing where you can read your work.
January 9th, 2008 at 10:49 amWell you have managed to destroy my eye makeup…again. My coworkers are now used to me crying at your posts. I don’t have kids, but I look forward to such touching moments when I do. Until then, I’ll just cry over yours and Sean’s.
January 9th, 2008 at 10:49 amI didn’t know I was going to cry this morning but you so beautifully write all of the feelings that come with being a mother, I couldn’t help myself. Enjoy those sweet days, my son is going to be 18 and my twins, boy and girl, will be 15 soon. I just don’t know where the time has gone but if I close my eyes for a moment, I can still smell my babies and feel their precious hands in mine. Bless you.
January 9th, 2008 at 10:59 ami think you speak for all us mommies and those moments we cherish.
January 9th, 2008 at 11:26 amSniff. I know the exact feeling of which you speak. Treasures of life.
January 9th, 2008 at 11:36 amThat great goodnight indeed.
What an awe-inspiring essay. God bless you.
January 9th, 2008 at 11:42 amThank you for once again bringing reality to an awesome height. You are a great writer and your words give hope to the reader the God is there for us at each and every turn of events in our lives. Enjoy that small boy while you can, I know you are!!
January 9th, 2008 at 11:47 amYou made me cry too! Absolutely beautiful post. Thank you.
January 9th, 2008 at 11:53 amYou have been blessed with an amazing way with words.
I am not yet a mother but someday I hope to be and when I read about your experiences it gives me a thrill deep inside as I anticipate my own journey and the moments I will have with the little one (or ones) God blesses me with.
Thank you for sharing yourself.
January 9th, 2008 at 11:54 amOh, good heavens. I’m crying…and it’s not even 8:30 in the morning.
Thank you for being so honestly…religious? I don’t know if that’s the right word, but for never being ashamed of sharing what is in your heart. It’s the most refreshing thing I read in the morning!
January 9th, 2008 at 12:11 pmThat was really beautiful. It is a blessing to read things like this. It makes me understand even more that children really are a gift from God.
January 9th, 2008 at 12:22 pmGod Bless You. - Jen P.
I, too, have tears in my eyes. This is so beautiful. Is is truly in those quiet moments that everything becomes so clear.
January 9th, 2008 at 12:28 pmOh, Antique Mommy, I am so glad that Sean came along when you were older — old enough to appreciate the sudden glimpses of etheral wisdom that we are occasionally blessed to have. Your writing is so beautiful that we read it with our hearts instead of our conscious minds. You put your finger on the way I felt with my first grandson. I remember telling him that I wished I could know when the last time he would sit and cuddle on my lap happened — so I could treasure the moment in my heart forever. Now, he is 26 and a law student at Penn U and does not come home very often, and way to big to sit in my lap.
January 9th, 2008 at 12:46 pmThis is just beautiful.
January 9th, 2008 at 12:50 pmI can’t stop sniffing - that is so good!! Huge difference in having kids and wanting kids - approach is totally different.
January 9th, 2008 at 12:50 pm*lump in my throat and tears in my eyes*
January 9th, 2008 at 12:53 pmBreathtakingly beautiful.
That was lovely ….. These moments pass so quickly….
January 9th, 2008 at 1:05 pmI think that’s the Holy Spirit nudging you out of bed — to pray one more time over him — and create a memory so strong for your little one — that he’ll never forget his praying mommy!
THANKS so much for sharing.
January 9th, 2008 at 1:22 pmThat was so precious! What a great reminder to always listen to those little nudges to go to our children, b/c we may just be met with a sweet moment like that!
January 9th, 2008 at 1:25 pmThis is such a beautiful post. Thank you for sharing those moments.
January 9th, 2008 at 1:30 pmOh my goodness, what a beautiful post. I am moved to tears. These are the thoughts that I have, but I have never been able to articulate them. Thank you.
January 9th, 2008 at 1:33 pmThat was simply beautiful and I could entirely relate to the experience and feelings. My ds is now grown. I had him when I was young and we were as close as you and Sean.
I remember kneeling by my son’s bed one night when he was 5 years old. As I was tucking him in and saying his prayers with him, I had a sudden realization that it wouldn’t always be like that. I would not always be the center of his world. He’d get older and eventually reach that age where it wouldn’t be cool among his peers to be “mommy’s little man”. He’d have to make his own mark on the world. I felt like someone had kicked me in the gut. I cried myself to sleep that night.
That day did come, as it must in every young man’s life. There were a few years in his early teens were public displays of affection were off limits, but by the time he was in his late teens, if he and a group of buddies were at our house and leaving together, he’d give me a kiss and a hug goodbye without a self-conscious care in the world. His buddies would often hug me, too, for that matter.
As I said, my son’s grown now and he’s his own man, not needing me to map out his days, but he still comes to me for advice and he still shows me affection. I know that I’m important in his life, as he is in mine. I take joy in seeing the tender way he treats his girlfriend. I know she’s the object of his affections and I can handle that. I do miss those days of him being a little boy, though, my little man.
January 9th, 2008 at 1:38 pmYou have the gift of being able to articulate mommy feelings. We sure are a lucky bunch of human beings, aren’t we?
January 9th, 2008 at 1:38 pmOK -that made me teary. Very well said!
January 9th, 2008 at 1:46 pmJust beautiful!
January 9th, 2008 at 1:49 pmWhat a lovely post! You have the ability to articulate all that is in the hearts of mothers everywhere…the blessing and the heartbreak that is motherhood. Thank you for sharing your gift with us…you write so beautifully.
January 9th, 2008 at 1:59 pmGorgeous, evocative writing without being saccharine-sweet. This was wonderful to read. Love the endnote of hobbling back to bed: tenderness collides with reality!
January 9th, 2008 at 2:16 pmWhat a beautifully written illustration, AM. Some of your best writing, for sure.
January 9th, 2008 at 2:18 pmGeez… I’m glad I didn’t put any makeup on today! What I had thought would be a quick look at your blog turns into a ten minute wait for my eyes to not be RED anymore and my nose to stop running so I can go out and run a few quick errands.
You so beautifully put into words those thoughts and feelings we all have had as Mothers… mine too are all grown up but I’m enjoying the refresher course I’m getting with my granddaughter.
January 9th, 2008 at 2:19 pmI am also amazed at my girls’ hands. I blogged about this as well. You can check it out if you want!
Thank you for the dose of reality!
January 9th, 2008 at 2:24 pmSigh… That piece was like dark chocolate. Bittersweet, smooth, instense and very satisfying.
January 9th, 2008 at 2:25 pmYou are a beautiful writer. How eloquently you are able to put such deeply felt emotions into words.
What a gift you have. Thank you for sharing it.
January 9th, 2008 at 2:28 pmAs I write this Miller has fallen asleep on me….so sweet. I never tire watching my children either. It’s a wonderful feeling us mothers have. Treasure it forever.
January 9th, 2008 at 2:34 pmAM, this is exactly why I’m glad God introduced me to you. You certainly see things that I often let go unnoticed. Thanks for focusing me back on the beauty of our children… again.
January 9th, 2008 at 2:56 pmWow.
January 9th, 2008 at 3:11 pmOnce again, you have caught me off-guard.
What a beautiful piece.
My eyes were prickling, and then a surprise chuckle as I reached the last line. I’ve been there, hobbling back to my own bed, countless times. Thanks for a beautiful post.
January 9th, 2008 at 3:17 pmHow absolutely precious and awe-inspiring! I would have cried (my eyes are wet now for you) out of sheer joy.
It is posts like this that make me look forward to the little moments ahead, not just the big ones.
January 9th, 2008 at 3:21 pmDang. That made my eyes water and my nose run.
January 9th, 2008 at 3:33 pmWhoops, that came out wrong. I meant that in a good way. My emotions sort of overcame me. I was very moved by this.
January 9th, 2008 at 3:34 pmI love the ElfGirl’s hands. I love to touch them and look at them and kiss them. What a blessing. I can almost see the dimples in Sean’s hands as I read your post.
January 9th, 2008 at 4:28 pmThis was lovely - and I have one very precious ultrasound picture of one of my kids waving, in utereo, and the ultrasound nurse wrote “Hi, mom and dad!” above it. A treasure.
January 9th, 2008 at 4:50 pmStop tearing me up in the middle of the day when I’m supposed to be cracking whips and dawdling over the Mt. Everest of laundry.
January 9th, 2008 at 4:52 pmI should have reserved this for the “sit down with a nice glass of Merlot” read.
Love it. Every word. Amen.
“I hobbled back to bed.” Love the spritz of humor at the end of a beautiful bathing.
More tears here… you are creating such gifts for Sean (and for his children, someday) with your writing, AM!
January 9th, 2008 at 5:14 pmGoodness. What an emotional roller coaster. I just read Pioneer Woman’s latest installment of how she met her husband where I was laughing out loud. Now I’m sitting here quietly weeping at the blessing our children are. I need to go do some laundry or something.
January 9th, 2008 at 5:19 pmThat was so extremely beautiful and poignant.
Sometimes, and this might sound weird, my 8-yr-old daughter comforts me in a way I can hardly describe. I just get this specific feeling from her that I have only gotten from one other person in my life before, and that was my mother. I sometimes wonder if it’s not my mother’s way of still being there me–through her–or what. I also wonder if my mother ever felt comforted by me when I was that age? Is it abnormal for an almost 40-yr-old woman to feel comforted and secure in the arms of her small child? I don’t know, but I wish I could freeze those moments in time. –Acutally, every moment I have with my children.
January 9th, 2008 at 6:02 pmOh goodness, edit edit edit!
I meant to say, “I don’t know if it’s my mother’s way of still being there for me — through her — or what.”
January 9th, 2008 at 6:03 pmBeautiful. (I love these moments with my three year old son, who very often wants me to lie down with him for a snuggle. I will miss it so when he outgrows it. You described it so well.)
January 9th, 2008 at 6:15 pmI have to echo what has been said - beautiful! You have been given a great ability to communicate through the written word. So glad you share this ability with us.
January 9th, 2008 at 6:21 pmDefinitely a candidate for “Best of AM”. Loved it.
January 9th, 2008 at 6:28 pmLump in my throat, and a tear in my eye. My gosh, and I’m a grown man (Paw Paw)! Ohhh well, what a touching moment…….and I am fortunate enough to experience these same things with a Grandson of 5.
January 9th, 2008 at 6:47 pmoh what a beautiful post! you have such a way with words that brings the true emotions of the moment though. i love your blog because we seem to share the same feelings for our sons and you have a way of articulating how my boys make me feel. i love the moments like what you described. each time i find myself sharing one with my boys it does make me think of when they are too old and too cool for some love from mom. but the way they love me know, it is just beyond words and the best gift in the world.
January 9th, 2008 at 6:48 pmYou always know how to make me tear up. Beautiful post!
January 9th, 2008 at 7:00 pmBeautifully developed and articulated. As I reach out my hand to my son, I simultaneously watch my father reach out his hand to his aging mother. Oh that we would remember to value age as we do youth.
January 9th, 2008 at 7:56 pmI am not an easy cry. But…this one did it. Waterworks full force! I do try to enjoy every waking (and sleeping!) moment with my little girl, knowing that someday soon (hopefully not too soon) she will think I’m the stupidest creature to walk the earth.
January 9th, 2008 at 8:27 pmBeautiful and wise.
January 9th, 2008 at 9:07 pmOh, how you bring me to tears. Beautiful.
January 9th, 2008 at 9:14 pmEvery moment is to be cherished. Every. moment.
January 9th, 2008 at 9:43 pmbeautiful post.
January 9th, 2008 at 9:43 pmWhat a wonderful moment! Thanks for sharing.
January 9th, 2008 at 11:02 pmThank you for sharing such a special moment.
January 9th, 2008 at 11:03 pmWell, now I have tears all over my spectacles. That was absolutely beautiful.
January 9th, 2008 at 11:45 pmI read your words and fell headlong into the long-ago memories of night time snuggles and the tenderness of small hands—-warm and solid little hands that I never really connected to those ghostly, translucent sonogram hands waving in my womb. I fell so deeply that I never saw it coming. Then your insight took away my breath.
I am a mother of boys, but one who is far closer to the Clear Call than to the rocking chair. The imagery in this piece, not only of the role reversal, but of the reversal of strength and nurture was both arresting and reassuring.
You are right. It was a glimpse of eternity.
January 9th, 2008 at 11:53 pmI was visitng another blog and was instructed to click over to yours. I’m glad I did. I’m a grandmother now and my 16-month grandson lives in my home. I feel the same way. I also love how he looks at me with those puppy dog eyes and reaches for me to pick him up everytime he sees me.
Grandma might be complaining about an aching back and creeky knees but the pain seems t go away when he’s around. Thanks so much for sharing.
January 10th, 2008 at 12:23 amCherish all the times he wants to hold your hand. Mine is twelve and the hand-holding is sparse now. It’s moments like these that will stay with us for so long!
January 10th, 2008 at 12:30 amBeautiful, as always!
(Also, why does it seem that my husband has to walk in the room while I’m reading tear-jerking posts??)
January 10th, 2008 at 1:01 amOh! I loved this post! I also try to to savor every second of the precious years of my kids’ childhood. Sometimes I look at them and wonder how they can grow overnight it seems. I used to ask my little princess “Who are you? Who are you for real?” I’m so excited to see what they will become, what sort of adults. And I also feel protected when I’m with them, or even when I say their names like a mantra.
January 10th, 2008 at 2:14 amThank you AM for such a beautiful post. You have a gift.
I came across your blog accidentally and try to read it whenever I get a chance. As I read this particular entry, with tears finding their way down my cheeks, I am eager to go check on my little angels. As we have just wrapped up one of those, oh so difficult days that sometimes pop-up, your entry has helped me to catch my breath and feel renewed for the wonderful/draining job that is motherhood.
I’m off to look at my little ones’ hands, feet, noses etc.
January 10th, 2008 at 3:26 amNose running,eyes running…..thank you so much for the gift of your words. I have seven children and God is Good. I feel so close to you, as you daily echo my thoughts. You put down in writing what I only have time to think in my head. Sunshine
January 10th, 2008 at 5:07 amYou have me weeping. Weeping.
Thanks AM, for always finding the words for what is in my heart and offering them up. I think I’ll print this out for the days when I find it hard to see my blessings.
This is a wonderful gift you have.
January 10th, 2008 at 8:47 am[...] 10, 2008 at 6:10 am (Cool Stuff & Beyond) Then head over to Antique Mommy and read this post. Have your kleenex [...]
January 10th, 2008 at 8:50 amBeautiful! Tears are running down my face.
What a blessing you have…and are. That you for so well writing what many of us are thinking and can’t put into words.
January 10th, 2008 at 8:53 amOkay, I thought I posted here - but must have posted on somebody else’s blog who has no clue what my post meant :)
January 10th, 2008 at 9:27 amIn essence, this is what I said:
oh AM,
You really should write a book entitled “prayers of mothers” which include some of these beautiful posts - please???
Yikes! What a tear jerker! What a precious moment to share with us, thanks!
January 10th, 2008 at 10:14 amOh, that’s beautiful… simply beautiful.
January 10th, 2008 at 10:24 amNow I’m crying into my coffee. What a beautiful post, thank you.
January 10th, 2008 at 10:37 amLord, help me to remember this when I am tired and groggy in the middle of the night and the Princess wakes me up after having a nightmare. Sometimes, it is so hard to be as comforting as I shoule be when I am half asleep. I would love to be able to have thoughts like these despite my grogginess.
Thank you, AM, for reminding me to be grateful for the awesome gift He has given me at all times.
January 10th, 2008 at 10:43 amSuch a beautiful post, AM. Thank you.
January 10th, 2008 at 11:41 amWow. Beautiful.
January 10th, 2008 at 1:25 pmThank you for sharing your precious moments with us! I struggled with infertility and also am amazed at these wonderful God given moments. Bless you.
January 10th, 2008 at 2:26 pmPowerful AM, powerful.
January 10th, 2008 at 4:12 pmhow beautiful your insite! I love when real things become poignant! Thank you for sharing your heart, I too hope The Father will take my earthly translucent hand & take me across the realms of time! Bless you!
January 10th, 2008 at 5:41 pm“the one clear call for me. . .”
Lovely words–wonderful thoughts.
January 10th, 2008 at 6:37 pmRoxanne, that line is from Tennyson’s famous poem “Crossing The Bar”. You can find the complete poem here:
http://charon.sfsu.edu/TENNYSON/crossingbar.html
January 10th, 2008 at 6:45 pmThat was my mother’s favorite poem.
January 10th, 2008 at 8:13 pmBrava.
January 10th, 2008 at 10:04 pmThis is beautiful.
January 10th, 2008 at 11:23 pmI have no words. Just gratitude. Great post.
January 11th, 2008 at 12:34 am[...] was so blessed (and saddened) by this post of Antique Mommy. I really love the way she writes. Thanks Ingrid for referring me! I was blessed [...]
January 11th, 2008 at 2:29 amHere I am weeping at my desk. Honestly, This is how I WANT to feel about my kids…but I’m Just so tired. I’m tired of the screaming and the bickering and the he touched me and shes looking at me…Im tired of the ripped books and the broken toys and the screaming, did I mention the screaming. I am 28 years old and I fall into bed at night utterly exhausted… and a few days a week my little guy crawls into bed with me in the middle of the night and curls in… then his sister crawls into bed with us and I think this is nice…and before I can finish my thought…. “AHHHUHHHHH EMILYS SQUISHING ME!” … in these moments I wonder how long 18 years really is??? (editors note: I do love them… just wish they came with a mute button).
January 11th, 2008 at 1:19 pmI remember now why I used to read your blog daily, and then got busy and didn’t…..now I am reminded what a way with words you have; an ability to put in words what so many of us feel and yet cannot express as eloquently. thanks for blessing me today.
January 11th, 2008 at 5:03 pmOften your words touch me like no other.
Thank you~
January 12th, 2008 at 12:45 amSo, so sweet. My two-year-old daughter has started hugging me and saying, “I love you, Mama” this week. They really do hold our hearts in their hands.
January 12th, 2008 at 1:29 amthat was a beautiful post. touched my heart.
January 12th, 2008 at 2:15 amThat was absolutely beautiful.
January 12th, 2008 at 5:38 pmThank you for sharing that.
Beautifully touching.
Thank you for sharing.
January 13th, 2008 at 3:57 pmWow. What a beautiful story, and so touching. I just had my first child, a son, who is now 6 weeks old and this really made me look forward to cherished moments with him. Thank you.
January 13th, 2008 at 6:21 pm[...] One of those sweet moments In the busy-ness of parenthood, some moments are filled with clarity and insight. Antique Mommy beautifully captures such a moment in this post. [...]
January 13th, 2008 at 10:24 pmThere needs be a Not Suitalbe for Work Because You Will Be Crying You Weenie label on some of your stuff. If you can come up with a better label tan NSFWBYWBCYW…let me know
January 14th, 2008 at 2:07 pmAs I read your words I knew exactly what you were describing and feeling because I have been there myself with my son, though it has been many years. He just turned 21. How the years have flown. But we did cherish the ones we had. Thank you for the beautiful post. :-)
January 14th, 2008 at 6:25 pmBeautiful…..
January 15th, 2008 at 10:45 pmI’m glad I’m not the only one crying! My children (7 & 11) both would have me sleep with them every night. You’ve made me rethink being irritated by it!
January 18th, 2008 at 12:28 pmI will never tire of reading what you write. I tend away from the emotional, but you have a way of putting things that leaves me no choice. Thank you for such a wonderful reminder of why I shouldn’t go kill my 3 crazy kids for destroying my bathroom with water….
January 22nd, 2008 at 11:07 pm[...] Fried Therapy Sober Briquette awarded Julie Pippert: Using My Words Hooked on Espresso awarded Antique Mommy Alex Year One awarded Tumble Dry Fog City Mommy awarded Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch Catheroo [...]
February 1st, 2008 at 7:02 amSaw you on the Perfect Post and want you to know that is the most sweet and powerful post I’ve seen lately.
We were actually talking about our kids the other day and how we shouldn’t take advantage of when they want to cuddle with us because unfortunately one day they will feel they are ‘too old’ for that and how we should just love it now.
February 2nd, 2008 at 4:59 am[...] Hands at Antique Mommy [...]
February 25th, 2008 at 11:51 pmAmazing. You two give such a prophetic image, and your son put it to words. “Here’s the church, here’s the steeple.” We are God’s children and need to be that intimate with Him as you are with your son. It’s amazing!
March 6th, 2008 at 12:09 pm[...] A New Song at This Simple Life — I’m convinced that in our “Entertain me” and media-saturated culture, we have forgotten how beautiful it is when we offer ourselves and our gifts beautifully and simply before our Lord. Thank you, Toni. [...]
May 7th, 2008 at 11:47 pm[...] she’s sharing tender moments with her son, Sean, remembering old friends, discussing life lessons she wants to teach her son, [...]
July 16th, 2008 at 5:22 pm