My son is to me
that moment right before you blow out your birthday candles
the perfect 55 degree camping weather
the feeling you get when you turn in a test first, and you know all the answers are correct.
He is
that song that brings you back to highschool nights with friends
a tight hug when you need it most
that infectious laughter that brings tears
the good kind.
Full of unlimited potential
he can be anything,
love anyone -
be loved and give love and be love.
He is a child,
like any child,
but he's mine and so he is a miracle,
a god-send
a supernova rainbow endless ocean of beauty.
Even when I'm so tired and frustrated that I just look at him and cry
or sigh and hold my head between my hands and wonder
am I cut out for this, did we make a huge mistake -
I look into grey-blue eyes, touch the softest skin,
remember the feel of him pushing against my body from the inside,
the first time I heard him cry out loud and clear,
and I know
even if I never write a real book,
even if I never become “successful” as the world defines it,
even if I die tomorrow,
I have everything.
