The problem with the last time something happens, unless it is scheduled, we probably don't notice it's the last. I know the last swim meet, the last basketball game, the last show in a play. But so many lasts with my kids I don't recognize.
This morning around 6, I heard the floorboards creak then someone shuffled into a door. Next the word, "Mom" came from the darkness.
"Yeah?" I responded.
Then Tucker stood beside the bed stretching six-feet tall now, his shoulders broadened from this last season of swimming.
I scooted over so he could sit down.
"I had a bad dream," his hand rubbed at his eyes. He sat on the bed then lifted up the covers and climbed in.
I moved over more toward Earl as Tucker turned on his side.
I rubbed his back a few minutes while he slipped back to sleep.
As I lay there, sandwiched between my husband and son, I remembered that this used to be a common occurence. Tucker would seek out our bed. Once he had fallen asleep, I would get too hot from all the body heat coming from those guys so I would get up and sleep on the couch.
Now I can't remember the last time Tucker came to our bed. Probably a couple of years.
Odds are good, this time on Feb. 13 may be the final time that one of our children climbs into our bed after a bad dream. There might be plenty of other times they wake us up in the middle of the night though, and the problems may not be as innocent as a bad dream.
At 14, Tucker can be a handful. When he was two, he would run ahead then look back to see if I was still there watching him. Now he may talk a good game about all the ways I could improve myself, but in the middle of the night, he came to see if I was still there for him.
I am.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
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6 comments:
I know this sounds stupid, but I got all teary reading this. My kids still crawl in with me when things are not great...or their dreams aren't turning out exactly as they had planned....but they have to crawl in over the phone. I do miss their warmth.
Delana, That's sweet. I find myself tearing up at things I never would have blinked at before.
oh my it brought tears to my eyes reading your post. My daughter doesn't climb into bed with us anymore we have to beg her to cuddle with us like she used to...she is 13. At least she still likes to hug me or put her head on my shoulder in church.
I remember when Jesse was weaning himself from holding my hand. He would go to grab it, and then think again. Heartbreaking. How do we get here so quickly with our children?
Very sweet-he wanted you when he woke up from that dream. The most I get now is a phone call.
I keep returning to read this post and the comments.
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