A Change in Perspective

Days turn into nights that turn into other days.  Quickly it all becomes a blur, I get lost in all the movement, lose focus, lose purpose.  Then there are moments, like today at the park that my perspective shifts.  I saw him differently today, even if only for a few moments.

Every day I wake to this child, I fall asleep to this child and everything in between is centered around this child, one way or another.  It is safe to say, and also sad to say that sometimes I do not really see him for who he is but rather just another task on my list of to-do’s:  wake him up, feed him, medicate him, bathe him, dress him, bring him to school, pick him up from after-school care, feed him, educate him, discipline him, ready him for bed, medicate him, tuck him in.  I can definitely get lost in the motions, lose sight of the reason behind those motions.

Today I looked at him with fresh eyes.  I saw how his face lights up when he thinks he did something funny.  I saw happiness in him as he laughed, at my expense however, to the thing he found funny.  I watched him after that, and marveled at his resilience.  After everything he’s been through, he is still just a small boy that finds so much joy in climbing a tree.  I watched him up there, no easy feat to get where he was, and saw the pride of accomplishment emanating from him.  I saw him glow when he alerted a passerby to his whereabouts and her face contorted into shock and I chuckled when she glowered at me with disapproval.  I later listened to his passionate rant about finding cigarette butts on the playground, because whoever left them there was breaking the rules.  You see, our park is a “tobacco free zone” per city ordinance.  There’s a big sign announcing this as you enter.  He could not fathom why they would break the rules.  “They can be ARRESTED!!” he proclaims, loudly.  And I smile at this personality quirk of his, this need of knowing and following rules because it only applies to rules that make sense to him.  Then I thought back to earlier in the day, when he asked me to join him for lunch.  I remembered the longing in his eyes and the excitement he could not contain when he saw me waiting for him by the cafeteria.  And the immediate concern he showed when he realized I had a bandage on my arm.  Waiting in the lunch service line, I was showered with hugs and kisses and while eating in our own special booth, I received cuddles- in front of his peers.

I know these moments of clarity are fleeting, that sometimes one can’t help but get swallowed up in the chaos of the days.  But I realized today, the most important to-do on that task list is to love him.  And I do.  And I think he knows that.  Or at least, I hope he does.