I walked into daycare, and he happened to be looking out the
window of his classroom. He waves. I see him saying “da-da!” before I can hear
him.
Out we go to the car, saying “bye bye” to everyone he
sees. He waves with the palm slightly
curled, twisting at the wrist from side to side. It’s very regal.
It’s Chinatown with his father, like innumerable Jews before
him. Rice gets everywhere. We tip well.
Fish filet! Dumplings are torn
into Rubin sized bites without the innards.
As we left Lao Hunan, and slowly wandered the enclosed
carless length of the strip, that kid was in one of the best moods I’ve ever
seen in a human. He takes big steps, chattering away, making games out of
everything he can touch, greeting all with a smile and a “Hi.” I learn so much about people as they respond,
or don’t.
He’s the mayor of wherever he goes.
We come home, and play in his room. “Book?” he usually brings me a small assortment,
so he can then get in Official Daddy And Rubin Reading Position and have some
choices.
This time he brought me every single book on his shelf. I kept accepting them, piling them on my lap,
laughing, as he stomped back and forth. It
was bath time before we even read anything.
In the tub, the erasable multi-colored crayon is king. “Star!”
“Cir-el!” Square is hit and miss. Triangle is still too hard.
He lets me brush about ¾ of his teeth. I shouldn’t keep leaving the upper left for
last.
He’s all giggles on the table as I towel him off. I become a human hair dryer, and he blows air
right back at me.
In his green shorts jammies, it’s time for just one
book. I hold up the index finger, trying
to make the point clear. He goes and
grabs “Goodnight Moon.”
That’s your grandson and namesake, mom. He chose your favorite children's book, and go-to gift.
We read the whole thing.
He likes the little old lady whispering hush.
Lights out. “Stars!”
on his wall have to be touched before he can lie down.
He chatters himself soothed, as he always does, and is just
now quiet as I try to not forget a minute.
****************************************************
I’ve been busy living life with him, and fulfilling so many
other responsibilities. Writing this
blog has faded from priority.
· Our trip to New York for Grampa Herb’s 80th birthday. His NYC cousins were so loving, their homes so welcoming. It strikes me that he’s slowly realizing it’s not just home that can feel this way. The world might be full of hugs, safety, and joy. What a gift to have family. There were a lot of good role models there. Herb is the goods. I didn’t know about 1/3 of the people at his party, because he has an active, vibrant, full life with Joan. Here’s to not quitting, and allowing misery or grief to rule. His kids are so proud of him.
Every day he seems to show a sense of pure joy at getting to live another one.
Our job is to make that lasts as long as possible.
