A window of time

fictional moments in motherhood

One day I will look out the window and the bus coming down the street will be yours. I will rush you up from your breakfast and tell you that you’re going to be late. You’ll roll your eyes at me and tell me you’ll be fine, that first period doesn’t count anyway, and you will take your time putting your jacket on, grabbing whatever it is you need, maybe a piece of fruit on the way out.

I will remind you about something after school and you will nod your head in response, in one ear and out the other. We will walk down the stairs together, the dog tangled between all our feet, and I will beat you to the door to make sure I open it for you, but not before I give you a big hug and kiss goodbye and tell you I love you more than anything.

You’ll reluctantly return the gesture and wave to me when you’re halfway down the driveway, where I’ll still be standing at the door until you step foot onto the bus. Eventually I’ll close it and stare into the mirror on the wall, take in the wrinkles that have formed on my face, the bags under my eyes from less sleep and the normal weather of life.

I’ll go through the laundry list of stuff that has to get done that day; client deadlines, laundry, book edits, your acting lessons, what I’m going to make for dinner, life itself. The dog will be at the top of the stairs wagging their tail waiting for me to come up to the kitchen and pour my second cup of coffee into a thermos, the one that signals it’s almost time for our long walk.

I’ll see your bus pull away through that same kitchen window I saw it drive up and my heart will clench at the thought of you pulling away from our home, from me. Someone once told me having a child is like having your heart live outside of your chest and there has never been a more real saying.

These fictional moments will be fleeting, each one of them in time and space. For now I will hold onto the sweet ones, the ones that are currently happening. The ones when you ask me to cuddle on the couch or to come play with you. The ones when you randomly tell me that you love me, the ones where you won’t let me out of your sight. The ones where you pop off the couch and do a silly little dance move to some song in the movie we’re watching. The moments where you are my only one. The moments when you are deep in coloring and you don’t even realize I am watching you. The ones where you nuzzle into my shoulder while I rock you to sleep.

All of these moments that I am lucky to love you.