Time

Oh, these hands...these little hands.  Hands that now prefer to hold mine with our fingers intertwined...hands that love to play with trains and squeeze my face until it hurts...hands that can actually clap on the beat...hands that don't really care for coloring but love to paint...hands that never pass up a sandbox...hands that always tuck themselves under legs in the car...hands that hold big boy cups full of water and get into the cabinets for snacks...hands that do so many things without any help from me...hands that are getting bigger all the time.

After we lost Wesley, time could not move fast enough for me. I made it one week...one month...longer without him than the time I was pregnant with him...six months...one year...I begged time to be my friend...just get me through another day already. Time was on my side. Time eased the heartache and made life more bearable. Hurry time, hurry. Get me to the place where I feel whole again. This is how I have felt for much of the last year.

And then one day I woke up!  What the hell was I thinking?!?  Urging time to move faster?!?  I should be pleading with time to slow down.  To let me soak up every ounce of every day with this precious child that I have been given time with here on earth.  To give me more shared moments...more baking days, trips to the zoo, snuggles in the middle of the night, hugs and kisses, conversations, games of make-believe, reading books, singing songs...more time.  Time with this child who holds my heart in his hands...hands that will only be so little for so long. 

Time...I'm begging you...stand still....