growing young

Thus begins the third round of birthday blogs. It was actually Molly who first received a blog on her birthday when she turned 8. I felt I’d done a fairly good job of it, so I continued it with the boys. I managed to make it through all 3 a second time, but frankly, I think the pressure has gotten too great. We all gathered this evening to surprise Molly with some birthday attention. I tried to think of a good opener that could turn into a good birthday blog. Nada.
Then when the little ones began to weary from playing hard, Molly sought me out and leaned against me, rested her head on my shoulder, and eventually began to melt into my lap. Suddenly my just-turned-ten-year-old was 4 again. Crawled into daddy’s lap and the fear of the inevitable distance that is marked and measured by days like today, was squelched for yet another time. I began to pray that I could have melded daddy/daughter days on b-day 11, 12, 13, 14… ad infinitim, until I just can’t hold her anymore. How does one ensure this?
Gotta say that I was a bit jealous though. When she finally got off my lap and went on with being 10, went on with impressing the young cousins with her size, agility, wisdom, and sophistication, I wanted a shoulder to lean against, a lap to crawl into, arms around me – I was 10 and tired, dependent again for only a moment.
But I know that to stay there would be selfish and would rob me of the much greater joy I felt being the holder.
Crawl into my lap child. Stay a child at heart – trusting, needy, dependent, learning. Nestle under my arm and be comforted.