It's been one week since you held me for the first time. About 24 hours before you came, the hardest week of my life started. With little warning I was reduced to a human with only infinite need and nothing to give. My days pushed forward and dragged me with them, limbs uncoordinated and flailing, shedding weight and adding raw new experience every time my eyes opened. I could see no more than three feet in front of me. Those three feet held your gaze and said to my shaking spirit over and over, "shh, child," until at last I quieted. Now - and only now - we begin to slowly reverse the trend. Things that were broken apart are coming back together in a new way. Things like you and me. And I'm starting to hear you as you tell me, in so many ways, "Be patient with yourself, be patient with me."
So here's to one week since you first held me, Wesley. I'll never be able to pay you back, but you know I'll always be trying.
Photo by Taylor Sporleder
