Skip to content

His Song

February 28, 2013

One night last week, Hubby put the kids to bed. I poked my head in to say goodnight to Abby, who lay in bed reading. I started across the hall to say goodnight to Henry and heard the faintest singing.

I reached his door, which was cracked open, and pushed my head inside. The smallest, green light from his Lego nightlight muted the dark. I could barely make him out in the jumbled heap of his covers. I stood quietly and undetected by Henry.

I listened to his song.

His faint voice, not unlike his night light, muted the dark. He sang an original composition of his day, the exact words muffled by his white, down comforter. I heard snippets about letters, a friend, a song. Even though I couldn’t make out all the words, I could tell that joy scored the song. I leaned in a bit further, held my breath and ¬†deciphered the last verse:

(Humming first, then)

I love my Dad

I love my Sister

I love my Mom

They are the best

Yeah

I slowly backed away from his door and walked the hallway to my bedroom. The night lights spilled their honey glow onto the hardwood floors, illuminating my path, a path I could walk in the dark with my eyes closed. A hallway I’ve walked countless times: sometimes seething in anger, other times with bland ambivalence, sometimes counting dust bunnies, other times carrying towering piles of laundry. On this evening, I floated down the hall with a sated heart, feasting on the small slice of my son’s song of supplication.

These small slices of grace. These are what make life worthwhile.

Advertisements
9 Comments leave one →
  1. February 28, 2013 11:52 am

    Beautiful! Could almost feel what you were feeling. That innocence is what I fight so hard to protect in my boys. The world comes too fast and furious . . .

  2. Pixie permalink
    February 28, 2013 12:41 pm

    this is so gorgeous. really captures the absolute beauty of childhood and parenting. i could feast on that sweet, sweet anecdote for days. filled my heart. thank you. xxx

  3. Elissa permalink
    February 28, 2013 1:31 pm

    Perfect moment

  4. February 28, 2013 2:16 pm

    Love.

  5. February 28, 2013 3:49 pm

    Yes, they are. Grace, and what it’s all about. xox

  6. February 28, 2013 8:15 pm

    Yes, so true. So grateful that you could witness this slice of genuine love.

  7. March 2, 2013 4:23 pm

    This is heaven. These moments. So good.

  8. March 4, 2013 9:50 pm

    This is so much better than the Thanksgiving when a kid (thank GOD not mine) stood up in his chair during the meal and grabbed his–yeah–and hollered: “PissPissPiss! I don’t like this dinner!” Oddly enough, I think it was kind of in the syncopatic style of the band Cake. Luckily, he never came over for another holiday meal.

  9. March 5, 2013 7:48 am

    Oh, the hallway passage. I revere that space and you so perfectly describe it.

Give me your grit.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: