merry and bright

Tolliver has not had the merriest orientation this month.  In fact, Andy has taken to calling him a threenager.  He spends most of his time face down on the floor, pounding his fists in protest, and I find myself praying for more patience than I may have access to.

But he is capable of being such a sweet little angel.
He talks about things I don't even notice.  As I listen, parsing the most important parts, so many times it turns out that he is talking about something I was totally oblivious to: A rock that's shaped just like a boot! The moon there in the daytime sky! That spider web attached to the doorbell! Four trees that look just like a family, mother, father, two boys! So many things I didn't see until he told me to look.

Like as I was getting ready to have drinks with a friend last week, having not spent much time in front of the mirror but rather ready to run out the back door as Andy rushed in:  Mama, it looks like you still need to get your hair in shape. 
He explains how things work, solves problems in simple terms, wonders about the world.

At the dinner table, talking about beef: Cows make meat, but they make milk too. It comes from their pipes. I mean their pistons. You have to squeeze it out into a bucket. 

Having been told he was wearing his sister's old holiday jammies: I wish that someday we could get Celia back.  
Someday I might be able to explain to him that he brings her back, a little bit every day, in the most magical ways.

Settling on the couch for early morning cartoons, him on my lap:
What will I do when you get too big for me to hold, I asked: Then I will just hold you.

In the back seat of the car, conversing with his brother:
Hey Tollie, I want to be a scientist, what do you want to be when you get big?
A daddy! with zero hesitation.
No, I mean what job do you want to have?  What will you do to make money?
I don’t know. 
You could be a nurse. You could be a nurse and a daddy.
Yes! That's what I'll be, a nurse AND a daddy! as if a bright future suddenly revealed itself to him.

May he always, on the best days of his life and in the darkest hours of the night, have a mostly merry and a very my-future-is-bright inner meditation.  May we all...

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