My Quirky Boy

I came home last night after 3 days away.  I rolled up to my house to see all the windows in darkness except the glow from hubby’s computer.  My heart sank, I was so hoping to see the munchkins before they went to sleep.  Hubby had prepared them, telling them they would not see me until tomorrow.

At 1:30AM I am dreaming of something rubbing my face. Slowly, I realize, it’s real.  I crack open my eyes to see Fin softly rubbing my cheek. “Mama…” he whispers, “your back.”

I throw back the covers, and he climbs in, schootches back and we spoon.  My child who when I ask if he misses me answers me with a “NO”. It doesn’t matter to me when he says that, I don’t feel hurt, sad, or mad.  I tell him, I miss him every second of every day that I don’t get to be with him.  It only matters to me that he knows I miss him.

When he was little he used to suck on his index, and middle finger together, palm up, on his left hand.  His right hand would be planted on your cheek for assurance that you were there.  He slept like that, and every where we went, if he was carried that was the position he assumed.  We never took notice, everyone else did.  It was the umbilical extension once he no longer lived inside my body.

This morning when he placed his hand on my face I remember when that was always what he would do, make that conection constantly.  He may not know to identify he misses me, he may never tell me he misses me, but that little hand resting on my cheek tells me all I need to know.