Moments to Remember

Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take but

by the moments that take our breath away.         

Hilary Cooper

For the past few months or so, I have not been on the computer writing a post to the blog.  I have been spending my time with my children, family and friends. 

During this time, I have found myself treasuring moments, filing them away in my heart and mind, knowing that when I am older, I will look back and be so grateful I experienced them.  And today, I experienced one of those moments that I would like to share.

My youngest son Owen is 10 months old.  He is my active little guy.  He loves to crawl around, follow his brother and sister, throw little balls and chase them, and generally, investigate how everything moves and works.  Yesterday he came down with a stomach bug and has not been feeling well since.  

Last night, he slept 13 hours, he awoke to have a drink of milk, and then went back to sleep for another few hours.  When he woke again, he ate a little applesauce, and then wanted to be held.  

My older two were in bed, so it was just Owen and me.  Owen did not want to crawl around, he did not want to look at a book, he did not want me to walk him around.  Owen simply wanted to sit in my lap, in the rocking chair, with no music, no talking, and no movement.  

As I sat there, I slowly merged into the moment, observing his sweet little hands resting upon my arms (which were snuggling him closely.)  I saw his ankles crossed and his adorable little feet resting in my lap without socks.  I saw his chest gently rise and fall with each breath, I saw his eye lashes flutter, and....I saw (and felt) him calm down into the moment with me.

And then I closed my eyes to allow myself to sense the moment.  I felt the weight of him gently blend into my lap, I felt his soft hair on his head against my cheek, and then I felt the calmness.  We started to gently merge into a feeling of....love.  The love I felt was overpowering.  I sat there with him in my lap, in awe of his presence, and felt immensely blessed that he came into my life.  And in that moment, a tear flowed down my cheek.  I did not move to wipe it as I normally do, rather I let it fall and just held space for the moment.

We sat there for what seemed like a long time, yet, I do not think it was too long.  When Owen moved to rub his eyes, indicating he was tired, we both took a stretch, had another snuggle, and I took him to bed.  As I said "sleep well little baby" and walked out of the room, my heart smiled with love and blessings.