Today, Mother’s Day 2009, was one of the best days of my entire life.  And, although my husband, kids and God-daughter, made it special from beginning to end – it was one hour. . .from 9-10 pm. . .too late for my 5 year-old to be up. . . too late for him to be walking around outside. . .something totally unexpected . . that made it a “best day.”

Almost every night after 8 pm, I try to fit in an hour or two of walking in an attempt to get some exercise and mainly dream my thoughts – clear my mind or to fill it will new things.  Tonight, my little boy – who won’t let me kiss him lately because I don’t think he can slow down for that long – asked if he could go on my walk with me.  

So, I asked him if he thought he could go a couple of hours and he said, “Sure.”  Off we went.  He grabbed my hand and we walked for over an hour around the neighborhood.  We took turns telling stories, talking, just being one.  I was overwhelmed with a feeling I had not experienced since I was carrying him in my womb.  The ”one feeling” that makes a mother sad that she has given birth, even when she’s glad to have released the heaviness.

My little boy is what most people categorize as “all boy.”  He rarely stops moving and doing.  Kind of like me, I guess.

But, this past week I’ve made an effort to stop moving in the direction I was going over the last several months. . .or years, maybe. I did things I enjoyed.  And, I think it showed.  I hope it showed.

Maybe that was not it.  Maybe it was just a fluke.  But, one thing is for sure – I will never forgot this night, that one hour.  When he’s all grown up, I know I will look at him and remember. . .my little boy.  Walking with me under the stars.  Telling stories.  And, holding my hand tight. 

Thank you.