Sunday, March 2, 2014

It's happening | Slice 2:31

From the shadows of our bedroom, he teetered behind the door and then out into the hallway's brightness. His blonde hair became golden under its cast; his eyes shone like the summer sky.  He giggled, moving his chubby fingers toward the door's edge and then disappearing again in series of herky-jerky movements. The door, still propped open by the puddling corner of his terrycloth hooded towel that hung from its handle, invited him to continue the game -- close, open, giggle, catch Mommy's gaze; close, open, giggle, catch Mommy's gaze.

Until one time, his over-confident hand shut the door. Like all the way shut. Like no lightness; no brightness. Like no serendipitous, stolen glimpse of Mommy. Like nothing. Nothing but a big, dark room fed by one tiny glowing crack stretching from underneath its wide stance.

He squealed; this time with less delight and more urgency, as if to say, "I mean it. Now, Mommy! Help!" Faster than a first-base runner I saved the day by revealing a sweet sliver of space between doors A and B. It grew bigger and brighter until finally more than one fleece-jammied foot peeked out.  

Round tummy shaking and arms outstretched, Grant chortled as he took quick, short steps toward me. I bent down. We laughed. His eyes twinkled.

I stood up, grabbing his velvety hand before taking a few steps toward his nursery to read bedtime stories.

A first.

In all of 16 months Grant and I had yet to hold hands walking side-by-side. Maybe it is more than the 'big boy' haircut he dons now, or the way he expresses understandable ideas and opinions.  Maybe it is more than the way I still see him -- a docile baby who will go anywhere, do anything.

He's coming into his own...
I'll watch.

It's happening.

Write on,


  1. What a picture you create! Such a sweet moment to savor. I was afraid this was going to end with him inadvertently locking himself in the room. Glad that was not the case!

  2. Your words took me through the experience. I am so glad you did not add a picture because I now have an image of him in my mind....toddling down the hallway, coming into his own that grows from words and my own connection to your story. Wonderful

  3. Among so many other images you created here, I can feel his velvety hand in mine. Such a special time. Such beautiful words.

  4. Such an evocative post - both visually and emotionally!

  5. This slice made me think of my youngsters - 14 and 17 - and those playful moments from when they were much younger. Thanks!

  6. I was afraid that he would get his hand caught in the door. "We laughed, his eyes twinkled . . . " so delighted with this outcome. Your words have awakened pleasant memories.

  7. Yes it does happen, in that twinkling of an eye, change. You've shown one of those moments beautifully B.

  8. What a special moment to capture and cherish. Beautiful.

  9. What a precious memory to capture. Very beautifully written.

  10. The SOLSC is a great excuse to record all those firsts, isn't it? I could picture this moment so clearly.

  11. I'm so glad you are taking the time to notice this. I still do this and reflect this way with my 12, 15, and 17 year olds. They are just as precious now as they were then.

  12. I lived in this moment with you. My little one just turned one and I could hear the panic in your little mans squeal. Treasure each moment. Thank you for giving us a glimpse into these treasured moments.


Hi! I'd love to hear what you are thinking right now, so please take a sec and drop me a line. I'm so glad you stopped by today -- thanks a billion. :)