06 Apr Slipping away
Like holding a bite of chocolate in your mouth and letting it melt and savoring it, but what if you could never have chocolate again, what if it was the last bite, how long would you hold that bit?
That’s how I felt holding Ellie just now. I will never again hold a baby of mine at this exact age ever again, watching her drift off to sleep, the delicate veins of her eyelids, the soft eyelashes closing, the round pupils of her eyes slowly disappearing just like the sun setting. The most beautiful sunset I have ever watched.
Many Ellie sunsets have happened in other people’s arms, or in my arms when I wasn’t watching. I forget that bonding doesn’t just happen, that paying attention is what makes you love someone. You have to put down your phone and try.
Not that I don’t feel a bond with Ellie, I do, I love dressing her up and cuddling her and nursing her and being the one who calms her down. I love chatting with her and taking pictures of her perfect, perfect face, and watching the synapses form as she works on connecting her hands to her brain.
It’s just been a while since I allowed myself that deep moment to just savor her. There always seems to be more pressing things, more indulgent things. It’s hard to slow down and take in a sunset.
I’m glad I did, today, for just a few minutes, anyway.