The love of my life

April 22nd, 2008

  

Sometimes in the middle of the night, when C falls asleep after nursing, his face resting on my breast, one small hand gripping my index finger, I kiss his forehead and think “This one is the love of my life.” And at that moment, there in the quiet warm bed, it is true. My second son is the love of my life.

 

Then the next night at dinner A stops his fork half-way between plate and mouth, turns to his father, and asks, “How is it going with you, Dada?” and I have to get up from my chair and walk around the table and give A a kiss right then because there are stars rising in my heart and I think to myself “This boy is the love of my life.” At at that moment it is true. My first son is the love of my life.

 

I am blessed to swing back and forth between these boys, each of whom owns the whole of my heart and both of whom are generous enough to loan it to the other now and then.