firsts and seconds…
In some sense, yes,
it is a season full of firsts:
the first time you feel his skin
or hear him sneeze
or smell his toes
or catch him smile.
Yes, that is the sense.
But love of an infant is of a different order –
it is only seconds.
Tuck them all away inside you
for one day, far from now,
they will help you pass the time.
*written for my good friends, Sam and Amanda…
John,
I’m thinking about this. I will think about this come August. I’m hearing your words, trying to learn how to tuck the moments away in a safe place.
I’ll admit its hard in the moment, Seth…you’re so exhausted changing diapers and working for the man and helping older kids with homework and feeding the llamas and stuff…but if you can tuck a few away at a time, they have a tendency to clump and bloom…thanks for stopping by.
The man… yeah, there is always him…
As an aside, some friends and I formed a fraternity in college called Lambda Lambda Alpha Mu Alpha. That’s probably more information than you’d ever want, but I thought I’d share. I’m good like that.
Yeah, too much info, but its alright…I’m gracious like that.
Maybe this is why people have the littles over and over. They can’t get enough of those rare seconds. This time around for us feels like such an honor.
We always love your words.
Thanks, Amber…you got grit to carry a little one across an Arkansas summer…grit indeed.
John, a great gift… Brings tears to my eyes for many reasons, not least of which is your love for me and Amanda. We will tuck this poem away too.
Sam, you guys are gonna be great!
Tears for me, too. Beautiful. Thank you, John.
Amanda, you are welcome!
I love the idea of tucking them away inside you. Mine are far beyond this stage, but I still hold those memories, and yes, they are still powerful.
Thanks for your comment, L.L…a pleasure to meet you.
I’m not even sure where or how I found you, but I’m so very glad I did! What a beautiful post. It’s like holding onto drops, isn’t it? This passage of time. I grab each child close, yet hold them open to Heaven with a desperation for them to be all His. Thank you for writing and sharing. I’ll be back.
Angie, glad you found me…thanks for taking the time to comment and stop in again, okay?
I definitely wish I could remember the smell of the toes.
Thanks for sharing your poetry with Books and Culture.
Thank you, Marcus…yes, that smell is growing faint for me too.