Brown Eyed Girl

At night is when I feel.....

As I lie in the quiet darkness before falling asleep each night, thoughts, emotions and words begin to flow through my body. Tonight they pressed me to get up and see my babies. The intensity of love overwhelms me for them, and I begin to have feelings of concern, guilt, doubt, joy, passion and some feelings that don't even have words.
I am drawn into Grayson's room first as I can hear him kicking and turning in his crib. I can see that he is slightly awake, so I pick him up, I needed the excuse for a midnight cuddling with my littlest baby. I snuggle him into my arms and we nestle into the rocking chair together. I press his little face to mine and feel that he is warm. My mind worries. Is it a fever? Is he teething? Is it bothering him? I will comfort him, just in case. I softly sing and stroke his warm head wondering how he has grown so quickly. Have I missed any moments? Have I sung and rocked him enough through these months? Do I have a strong enough connection with this little soul? Will he love me as much as I love him? Oh why has this time gone so quickly? Then guilt, wanting to be a better mother, and love him even deeper. Then a type of strong emotion fills my body that doesn't have a word, only a mother knows this feeling. I know I need to put him back down to sleep, but letting go hurts.
Speaking of letting go, I must go to Madalyne's room now. For she has grown way too big, and I don't want her to slip from my grasp yet, she is so precious, and is also growing way too quickly, I don't know how to hold on to the sweetest and most innocent of times with her. I know this sweet time will pass and soon she will not want me to snuggle with her every night, reading her stories, and kissing her little cheeks. She will not pick me flowers, and beg me to play horsies. As she sleeps soundly I move 'wolfie', her stuffed husky dog, and climb in beside her. And even more intense emotions flow. I listen to her deep breathing, and remember, with pain, the morning she stopped breathing, and a mother's heart died. This sound in her lungs is a sound this mother will always need to hear. I remember the day she painted her face with my red lipstick, and all the other many times the little girl has made me laugh. I swell with tears as I beg the Lord to preserve my life, so that I may raise her with the best advice and love, and security only a mother can bring. She is almost 5. The age my mother lost her mom to cancer, and has had a lifetime of pain missing that mother's love. So I find myself begging the Lord now, to let me be there, and be exactly what she needs, what he needs. How can this love be so great? How can I be better tomorrow. Today I shouldn't have spoken so harshly, I should've spent more time...... The tears flow at midnight.

Amazing to me the noise in our lives. The noise and busyness that keeps our true feelings buried.
With morning light we hold deep inside the "feelings" we possess. We hold the beach ball down under the water. We cope, we move, we do, we forget. That is untill the next quiet falls over, and then we feel. Then we remember.
I want to remember to live my day while feeling the full intensity of things that come over me at night. Lest I forget the littlest things I hold so dear.