I’ve heard it said that being a mother is like having your heart beat outside your body for the rest of your life. I agree with this statement as Master 4 took my hand today and kissed it. Like a confident Frenchman he smiled as he did it and told me he loved me and that I was beautiful.
He looked straight into my soul, holding my eyes to his intently as he spoke. He went on to tell me lots of wonderful things and ended with a simple ‘Thanks Mum’ before the spell was broken and he asked for a drink of milk. But in those few moments it was like he held my heart pulsing in his hand.
I looked at his face, memorising every detail of his creamy skin with a dusting of tiny freckles across his nose and framed by huge brown eyes. I watched his expression flicker as he struggled to pronounce words and link meaning to the experiences he was relaying to me. I watched his pure joy when he got words correct. I drank in his presence and wondered at how this stunning little person could have come from me. I hugged him and ran my face in his deep auburn hair and tickled his ribs.
Squealing he ran off with the equally stunning Master 2 to have water play under the hose.
I watched two pieces of my heart disappear around the corner of the house. I struggled not to be overwhelmed by my love for them as tears welled in my eyes.
3 thoughts on “Pieces of my heart”