His body moved like a lodged shell; swaying forwards and backwards with the erratic rhythm of the waves that collided into him with only his florescent yellow flip flops that had sunk deep under the tiny granules of sand to hold him steady like an anchor.
He was becoming part of the landscape and I stood there captivated by his peace.
I could actually hear the wheels in his mind soften to a slow hum.
I saw his lungs expand as far as the waves reached out to collect their power. Then with a heavy gust, a huge sigh of relief, they collapsed like the rush of the waters onto the shore.
My sweet boy, calmly and contently grounded under the summer sun.
Today you are nine.
When we stand together, I can rest my chin on the top of your head. We can wear the same flip flops. Not that you’re ready to trade your fluorescent yellow man eating shark ones for my pink ones, but I keep trying.
I believe that all parents get pinches in their hearts when their children turn another year older but I don’t feel sad that you’re growing up. Instead, I am sitting here writing this and feeling so full of pride.
You’re courage and kind and bright and laughter in every corner of our home and our souls Chunky Monkey.
I am incredibly proud of the person you are becoming and every single day I am thankful that I am your mom.
That it’s me who gets to be right here and right now – privileged to witness you navigate your days.
That it will be your Dad and I who will be on board with you for whatever journey this next year brings –
Make waves C – big ones, little ones, wild ones, awaken new ones, steady old ones…within you and around you.
Nine is a wonderful age.
I know so because I was once nine like 15 something something plus some other numbers multiply something else years ago.
Many wishes for you love
Mom & Daddy