Time Flies, Aspidistra-Style


We danced together today to “Aspidistra Flies,” which I deemed "our song" when you were just 2 weeks old. We had only danced to it a few times since that day and not in the last several months, so when it came on the stereo this afternoon and Kostyn was busy with his blocks in the play room, I snatched you up and we swayed, and I reminisced about the moment you fell asleep in my arms to the very same tune so many moons ago.

You felt so different today. Bigger, of course, and more alert, but more than that. Your energy has shifted to the world around you, you have been drawn out of your sweet little cocoon of Mommy and Evan and nothing else. Your eyes never stop searching for the next magnet for your attention, and though it’s often me, it’s not always me, which is both a relief and a tragedy.

I was never a huge fan of the “newborn” stage of life, never pined for you boys to stay tiny forever. It’s true that every new phase you enter seems like the best one yet. But even though I hug you every day, those hugs change imperceptively, day after day, until one day I realize I’m hugging a different person. And every once in awhile I’m caught in a sentimental moment when the right song is on and you smile in a way that reminds me of the way you used to smile back when that’s all you could really do. And in that moment I’d give my left lung for one more dance with that version of my sweet baby boy. Just one more snuggle with you as an infant, please!, because I’m sure if I was granted that wish I’d memorize how you feel, how you smell, and how I feel as your whole world back when you fit perfectly in the crook of my arm.

So today I felt you slipping away, even as I hugged you hard against my chest, and my eyes welled with tears. The newborn baby you once were is gone. So, too, is the little guy who needed me to help him sit up, the one who stayed where I put him. We only danced for about a minute before you spotted the cat underneath the table and your legs began to kick my stomach, stretching your little body away from me, trying to break free. I tried to get you to stay with me, but eventually let you wiggle free and toddle away.

I wiped my eyes and looked back at Kostyn talking to his toy animals, and decided instead of pining for a moment gone by I’d memorize this one -- how you both feel and look and sound. Because before I know it I’ll be hugging different people again and pining for today’s dance, when I was still holding you in my arms.

More on time flying and all that jazz, here.


Lis said...

Savor every moment. Time really does go by so fast. At least you have all these memories down to look back on. Give them hugs from me.

Lyn said...

Another tear-jerker. Thanks for sharing your life and your love with us so beautifully.

Jennifer Alliet said...

I totally feel the same way about Orion. Could have never said it that well though. Thank you.

Christopher said...

I hear you, baby. We still have a whole lot of great memories to build with these guys -- in fact, its an entire lifetime of them ahead.

Amy said...

i totally get it.