my careless contagion

I asked my mom to answer questions recently about motherhood. Here are her answers. I include it here because it is retrospective in nature and I don't want to lose it.  *** 1.Favorite memory: It’s really hard to pinpoint one thing. I loved holding my babies, carrying them. Having them fall asleep on my shoulder. Nursing them, knowing I was feeding them something that was really good for them. You would nurse for  awhile  , then pull away, smile at me, then go back to nursing. What a joy! When you were older, reading books together was fun. I just loved having all my children underfoot, at home. As far as you were concerned, you gave the best hugs. When I was grouchy, you would ask if I needed a hug. You always seemed to understand me; we were on the same wavelength, You didn’t talk much, but when you did, you always had something important to say. You were thoughtful, you thought a lot about deep things. You had a good understanding of important things. I enjoyed having ...

The above is one of my favorite pictures of my son. This was the day he finished his swim lessons for the year, and I was so proud of him. I told him how I struggled to pass my swim lessons when I was a child. There were many days he simply didn't want to do what he was told (like putting his head under the water, which I admit is scary when you're not used to it). But we asked that he try, not that he succeed, not that he do anything perfectly. We just asked that he try. And he did.   It's the image of a child growing up too fast, too. He's only four years old, but so much is expected of him. We oftentimes treat him as we would an adult. I have said countless times how I want him to just slow down ... please, just slow down, you can be an adult the rest of your life; you can only be a kid now.  Regardless, life moves us along. Today I realized just how far along my son has gotten. There is a reactionary quality to what I need to relate here. Trust me, I understa...

To the man I've never met You don't know me, and I don't know you. I will never meet you. But, for all I know, we could have brushed shoulders before, walked by each other on the street or driven past each other in some small-town dusk. We breathed the same Midwest air. We probably had the same hopes and dreams for our lives. But, mostly, we had her in common – the girl you've spent your life with.  I'm glad you got the girl. I'm happy that you got to spend the best years of your life with her. I'm sure she made you happy, made your life easier, made your world complete with the babies she gave you. She made you  you  as much as you made you  you . She was the best part of your life – a living, walking, breathing gem of a woman. You were blessed beyond all men I've ever known. You had the woman of my dreams. Heck, you had the woman of any man's dreams.  It wasn't enough for you. I wonder if any woman would have been enough for you...

My brothers and I dressed in our Sunday finest. Family get-togethers can be hard for me. As someone I once knew would say, "Going home reminds of why you left." And, for me, there were so many reasons. Why did I move more than 1,000 miles away from my parents and hours away from my brothers? Even though they were a day's drive away, I still didn't visit them unless I was rolling through on my way to some other place. Even then, I often wouldn't stop. At first glance, it would seem that I'm a bad son and brother. I can't really deny that, but there's more to the story. I have two brothers; the oldest is seven years older. The other is three and a half years older. I was never unaware of my status as the youngest, the smallest, the runt. It was constantly reinforced. When my brothers got BMX bikes, I got a retro girly-looking thing. With training wheels. Hot Liner. All the kids wanted one, right? Perpetually tagging along and r...

*This song is clearly about the end of a relationship and the effects of that on the children. This is very much where my mind goes at this moment. My son is trying hard to not let any of this affect him, what's happening in his world. I knew there would be a price to pay for leaving my wife, but I never wanted my son to pay that price. He's trying so hard to be strong. I know his world is in turmoil. Even though I feel like he's been taken care of in amazing ways, I still can't help but feel shattered by what he's going through. When he goes to bed, I'm not there to say goodnight. When he cries out for me in the night, I am not there. When he wakes in the morning, I'm nowhere to be found.  When he's sick, what comfort am I?  My son, what have I done to you?* Precious and fragile things Need special handling My God what have we done to You? We always try to share The tenderest of care Now look what we have put You through Things get damage...