And I lie there with him, staring in wonder. A feeling of uneasiness settled in too. Worried. This little boy will continue to grow bigger and bigger, older and older, venturing out into the unknown.
Staring down at his little neck that was openly tempting me to kiss it all over, not wanting to wake him.
And I thought of his future girlfriend, or his wife, and thought:
"How lucky she will be. THE luckiest girl in the world. To be able to kiss THAT neck. So passionately. Hold him dearly. Kiss him sweetly. Run her fingers through his hair. Caress his incredibly soft skin."
And each time I thought these things, my tummy got warmer. My heart fluttered.
Thinking of how he smells of honey and sunshine. Chai tea and warm milk.
I realized then, that it was me who was the luckiest woman in the world. And his wife or girlfriend or whoever, would only be second luckiest.
Because no matter what, I'll always remember him as THIS. And I'll have watched him throughout the years and know that he is my son who always, if you closed your eyes while you lie next to him sleeping, immersed yourself in a field of wildflowers with the sun shining down on you both, hearing the hum of the honeybees. The sweet, warm breeze flowing through your body. THAT is my son.
And that makes me, truly, the luckiest girl in the world.