I wrote this poem last August, for my favorite little man:
"Of Sleep and Dreams"
Late last night I dreamed your head returned to rest upon my arm.
Sweaty skin would stick to skin when shifting snuggled deeper still.
Chubby cheek in nestled nook, turned to face me, mouth agape;
Little lashes softly sweep in pretty arcs of sleeping sound.
Heavy head would rest for hours, face upturned to me adoring;
Flower face with petal skin - I reach to touch, it calls to me.
Clutching close, we glide together - safe, secure, in slumber same;
Hugging hearts, an hour embrace, a moment frozen - stretched to love.
Devotion due directed to the burden bearing burden none;
Minding time together passed, the now I crave - entwined as one.
Distance does become us not - I justify my selfish spoil.
But baby's heavy warmth is fleeting - hold you close a moment more.
Oh how I miss those hours, holding him while he slept. But he's not a baby anymore, and I no longer get to see him every day. It's an amazing and wonderful thing, to be able to watch and love and support a child as he grows, but it's easy to have a lingering nostalgia for the days gone by. His mother wrote a beautiful post about this as well, and while she feels it very differently and more acutely, I feel it too. It's hard to let him grow up.
But he does, and we learn to have fun doing new things together, discovering the world a little bit at a time.