November 21, 2013 by Katia
The quick thump of running feet. The light feet of a child. The creaking front porch wooden stairs relay a story of excitement first, then they speak of uncertainty and hesitation as the creaking noise becomes more sporadic and slow as if the runner, lifted up by the wings of excitement lost some of his gusto being dropped off on our tiny little porch. I stop in my tracks confused. None of my children are home. Who is the child outside my door at 11 am? And then a face appears in my window, eyebrows raised in question as he seeks out the intended recipient of his message, the palms of his hands creating a triangular roof above his eyes. He is now smiling, feeling reassured after noticing me. Childish excitement in his voice as he announces a special delivery. A hint of vulnerability when he hands me the Baby Language Dictionary he had prepared for his across the street neighbours with a question mark in his eyes once again. His ten-year-old mind probably asking “will they like my gift as much as I do?”
Sometimes words fall short so I high-five him and tell him that he’s made me very happy. Very happy this morning. And then I sit down and think some more about footsteps. How perfectly they capture emotion and stir it. Fifteen Month Old is launched from one end of the house to the other by sheer eagerness. You can hear the excitement through the loud drumming of those unstable feet trying to catch up with themselves, every thump on the hardwood floor carrying the promise of a fall to follow and I watch and listen as my heart leaps with joy and fear.
Last week my husband was away for a few days. Fearing that the loud morning and mid-night “MAMA!” summon to his room would wake up 1 Year Old, I’ve offered 4 Year Old a fun game. How about instead of that yell, you sneak into our bedroom at night and whisper “mama”? In return I’d let you stay.
It’s the night side of the next morning and I’m outside the door of crying One Year Old’s room and once again I’m stopped in my tracks by footsteps. First I hear some commotion by Four Year Old’s door. Then the round door knob turns and I see him in all his tininess. Stripped of that extra layer of meaning we get when we know we are being watched. A tiny bedheaded figure all hunched, neck planted deeply into his shoulders in fear as he is making his way for the very first time in his life through a dark corridor. His shoulders raised, his back hunched, his steps tiny, quick and hesitant, knees bent as he tiptoes to our bedroom not hearing me call his name, so immersed he is in his mission to make it through the dark corridor with Blue Bear tucked under his arm for protection from zombies and ghosts. I watch him and I’m feeling so thankful right now for such intense emotion, such heart piercing love brought about by the sound and sight of footsteps.
This has been a Finish The Sentence Friday post on the topic “Right now I’m feeling thankful for…”
Please visit the wonderful:
Stephanie at Mommy, For Real
Kristi at Finding Ninee
Janine at Janine’s Confessions of a Mommyaholic