With the screeching sound of blood rushing to my head, the beginnings of a blind panic start to set it. What, I wonder fervrently, you mean to say I wont eternally be the axis on which Harrison’s world spins? But I want forever to be the one in his universe where he seeks solace and safety! I want to be the protector, the nurturer, the defender and all-round champion of his every cause! The Mummy who makes him giggle with such complete abandon crashing out likes waves on the shore, one after the other, after the other, making my heart swell just like the sea. How could someone be so cruel as to one day take it away from me?
Melodramatic – yes. But unlikely – no. Yet thankfully I assume I have about 12 years until which I will be turfed out on my unconditionally loved ear, likely replaced with anything remotely cooler than me.
So here I sit now, in my silent home, nostalgia taking its turn to wash over me. How these moments, so simple, a mere moment in time, can occur and then vanish in a heartbeat. Just like quicksand, I feel I lose my baby more and more by the minute, interchanged now with a blossoming boy who is beginning to know his own mind. I fear I will soon no longer be the apple of his eye, his beacon of light in a dark night, his one, his only, his everything. Where he’ll no longer laugh so wholeheartedly with me, instead glare witheringly at his daggy mum, or pointedly shut his bedroom door in my face, an unspoken order that he’d prefer to be alone, instead of planting one of his sloppy gummy wet kisses on my cheek.
I want Harrison to always know that it was me, who, on the days he was unwell that he clambered up to, sobbing his little heart out, and, after being soothed by his Mummy, soon settled into a slumber with his head nestled soundly between the crook of my neck and my shoulder. These particular moments in time, as rare as heat in July because of his mostly rambunctious nature, are the ones I treasure the most. The fleeting, heart filled instances of such unconditional love and trust are the memories I pack neatly away in the tissue papered recesses of my mind, to lovingly, gently retrieve and revere when times are tough, or I need an excuse to make my heart swell and my smile shine.
Yes, we may have endured a rocky beginning but there has never been a moment where I haven’t been absolutely besotted with you, my baby boy. And of course, I do know I will always be your Mummy (although I suspect you’ll stop calling me this in about 6 years time, once the school yard influence kicks in!), no one can ever truly take that Mother mantle away from me. Inextricably interwoven – for life…
