I breathe in his freshly-shampooed hair, twirling the fine baby-soft strands of blonde sweetness around my finger. Ben has been asleep in my arms for close to 20 minutes now, but I’ve selfishly (?) stayed upstairs in the nursery rocking him, snuggling him close and savoring the night-time quiet — his even breathing and the pitter-patter of his heart-beat while Luis prepares Maya for bed.
He’s limp in my arms, in such a deep sleep he’s easily placed into his crib and I do the “hand slip” out from under him. He moans a little, lets out a sigh as he drifts into dreamland. I touch his back, rubbing it ever-so-softly, making shushing sounds, while his legs curl under him.
And, as I did a million times with Baby Maya, I stop and pause to reflect on this.exact.moment. Continue reading “fading memories”