Clinging to what is yours. You grow. You are becoming more. Aware. Available. In tune with the outstretched and the overall. I see it. I savor it, too. You are meant for world changing. And in this small space of time and in this small capsule called childhood, I am here.
To make a difference. I am the one chosen worthy for sending out signal flares for success. In my touch. Through my smile and with my rhythm. I am yours. Forever, boys. If no other tagline falls behind my name, that'll be just fine. Life's fleeting. It's surreal and so very quick. For this, I cling. To the smell of your hair just after a shower. To the giggles of your silly and the curls of your toes around mine in our fluffy carpet as we read.
In time, you will be gone. Grown full. Ready for movement way more than I can provide. Your Daddy and I can hardly wait to see the hope you will handout to this sphere of perpendiculars we call Earth. Latitude and longitude lines of so much theory, action & religion. War & hate, too. It is this that I cling to. The belief in you. The time invested in the very breathes I am honored to call my sons. I cherish your stories and your questions. Even on days when my answers are short and bedtime stalling is at an all time high. I pray onward and over you. My social security numbers created.
It's in your lashes against my freckled skin, that I love your father more. I thank a triumphant God for the spirit He has inhaled into you both. Your growing compassion, your increase in what it means to live a life of integrity. I see your stumbles and your disbeliefs. Those crossroads you bear. I hold them with you. With honor and pride, I smile so very full as I watch you face them head on with courage and with hope.
My little boys. Never doubt my all for you. Your place in my heart has made this Earthly walk that much more fantastic. I thank you for the privilege. For the family we have and for watching your grow. I am here. In the hard. Through the hustle. And for the long haul. My sweet little men.