From the moment he was born, I was infatuated. He emerged with perfectly muscled little arms, and his skin was the color of flame that burns closest to the wick.
As he grew, he would say amusing things. One summer day when he was three, we strolled through a graveyard and he remarked that the man with an enormous monument must have had a huge head. Yes, a large ego, I replied. He laughed at the funny sound of ego.
By the time he was five, he was known for his catch phrases – “A world without donuts is madness”, “When you turn TV off, you turn me off”, “White Castle – it’s worth the wait”. Yes, he watches TV, plays video games, and eats junky food, probably more than he should. But I try to surround him with subtle touches of beauty (macaroni and cheese on an antique Japanese porcelain plate) and kindness (never too tired to listen, help, fetch or find). He recognizes these things, and appreciates them.
He’s now 13, so my terms of endearment like Dandy Lion or Baby Grand are used less and less, but my infatuation hasn’t diminished. I believe that my role, as his mother, is to help him appreciate the beauty in all things, to impart beauty onto all that he touches, and to have a heart full of compassion. So far, I think I’ve done well by him, and that makes me very happy.
No comments:
Post a Comment