Wednesday, May 7, 2008

I remember when...

He sat alone, small and frail, my bald headed boy, almost lost in our living room chair. He had his arms wrapped around his knees with sadness covering his face; he gazed forlornly out the big window. Children’s laughter, though muffled, floated through the glass, as they were running and swinging and jumping on our trampoline in our backyard. I saw the longing in his eyes. A silent tear slid down his face.

“Joshie what’s wrong?” I asked.

“I wish I could be like them. I wish I could play too. I wish I was normal.” Came his quiet words.

My heart broke in two. I hugged his pale little body.

“Let’s play U-NO.” I suggested, trying to get his mind away from his weakness.

But look at him today...

“I’ll race you!” He yelled as he took off down the gravel path towards the track meet. Stopping only to look at a huge banana slug at the bottom, he beat me. Climbing all over the grassy hill behind where I sat watching his sister compete, he was full of energy.

“Look, mom! I found a four leaf clover!” he exclaimed as he shoved a green leaf in my face. Quickly, he turned and ran back up the hill, only to lie down at the top and roll like a log towards me.

“Did you see me?” He asked as he jumped into my lap smelling like green grass with bits and pieces stuck to his jacket.

I smiled into his face. “Yes, I see you, Joshie.” I said, as I ruffled his head of hair, kissed his rosy cheeks and squeezed him tight.

I remember when, but look at him today…