A Sublime Moment
My son Drake is nearly 3 years old, my baby Guppy is 6 months old. Much of my day is spent caring for them in very basic ways–making sure they’re dressed, fed, and safe. While this often is challenging, it also weights very heavily toward the mundane, which is one reason I set book and movie goals for myself. I don’t want my brain to shrivel up and fall out of my ear.
There are, however, compensating joys. Not as frequent as the diapers, tantrums, et. al. But also of a different nature, so that I’m not tempted to tally and compare them. The other day I was trying to get us out the door, and was running late as usual. I was trying to get myself ready, while Guppy’s cries escalated, when Drake poked his head in the bathroom and asked me to read him Frederick. “I can’t right now, honey,” I said, my voice high and frantic. “Why don’t you read it to Guppy. He sounds sad. That would be a big help.” I never expected it to work. But Drake plopped down in the hall, opened Frederick, and started to “read” aloud. Agape, I stopped getting ready, and peered into the hall. Guppy had stopped crying and was looking avidly at Drake, who I discovered had memorized several pages of the not text-light book. He went on for a few pages, then closed the book and said to Guppy, “We’ll stop there for now.”
Then Guppy started to cry again, and I was still not ready, because I’d been staring at him in joy and wonder. I told him he’d done a good job, and thanked him for being a good brother. And we eventually got out the door.