keeper of the love

i love bill murray. i can relate to him as bob in my all time dorky favorite: 'What about Bob?' i often fear my own reflection though, to somehow see myself as the martyr mom i so despise. grovelling like bill murray was on the steps all full of need and insecurities..."gimmee gimmee... i need! i need!" but he's still so loveable even in all his neurosis.

river is full of love and intense stares, mischevious boyish smiles, pure innocent wonderment, and deep thoughts beyond stuart smalley's deepest oceans of SNL's early 1990's.

he gives kisses freely and often. snuggles constantly and brushes the hair from my eyes with a certain tenderness that lingers familiarity on my heart. when he's hurt he comes sadly to me, all quiet and broken. whimpering, "i'm a baby bird and you're a momma bird." when he falls and busts his lip on the hard floor, he seeks shelter in my arms. when close to my heart, he whispers "i'm a little mouse and you're a momma mouse." when emotions run high at the playground he finds refuge in my lap and reminds me of our caretaker roles, "i'm a little puppy and you're my momma puppy."

children take love that is so freely given. like tilting your head back and opening your mouth to catch the rain, there's always enough. even on bad days. even on rough, prickly, uncomfortable days.

love is like air.
it surrounds us, we breathe it in and breathe it out into one another.

it's easy to shower him in the love that surrounds, when he's so receiving and open to it.
"kiss my eyes! sniff my hair! tickle me, momma!"

so, what is it that i want? why do i want words? that tiny little four letter word that never leaves his mouth with a kiss. it's in his eyes. it's in his heart. but it's never spoken. it's love. and it's sacred. i know this about him. he has spoken the phrase 'i love you' to me once. maybe twice. really. it made such an impact on me that i wrote about it here. he is selective with what he shares, and he is selective with what he tosses out to others.

it makes me wonder about myself. why i need what i need. how i do with what i've got. why i think about it so much. it makes me think of this aquarian child i am raising and accepting as his own. his needs are very similiar to mine. but his gives and takes are different. after he's tucked into bed, when i click off the light, he requires me to lay besid him as he falls asleep. me and only me. every single night of his life. he wants my arm resting on him and i say "goodnight river, i love you." and he whispers "yep". i smile into the darkness and watch his trail of glowing stars fade as they fill my heart with all his reserves of love. words he cannot speak for whatever reason. i've grown to love that about him, the secrets of his heart.

we have a new favorite bedtime book and one line that i've taken to heart keeps crossing my lips. for myself, for him, for everyone unable to find the right words. "it's time to sleep little bee, little bee. yes, i love you and you love me." it makes us both smile, like we are speaking our own secret language. and for me, that's enough.