scribblechic

There is a quiet grace in the eagerness of your vulnerability, the unabashed honesty of your emotions. I wonder if you understand the rarity of your openness, your willingness to step outside a prideful posture and stand unguarded in your tenderness.

Yesterday I watched you gather your worries and fears into a language of need; washing your smile in a flood of tears you purged the thoughts that confined your smile. In that moment the years tumbled away and you looked lost in unhappiness that hung from your frame like a child dressed up in the ill-fitting garments of problems too large for your experience.

Sweet boy, for all the language of expectations that dictate the responsibilities of a young man we must remember to honor the fleeting fragility of your childhood. Thank you for trusting me with your worries, that I might better guard your smile.

Love, Mom

Tagged: Musings, Son