Whisper

My awesome friend Kate Motaung has succeeded the fabulous Lisa-Jo Baker as the host of the online “Five Minute Friday” writing party. The idea: get the weekly prompt and write for 5 minutes, no edits, no worries. Just write. Then link up over at Kate’s and encourage some of the other writers around you. Thought I’d join in this week. The prompt is “whisper”. Here goes 5 minutes. 

Five-Minute-Friday-4

I went to bed too late. Bleary eyed and grumpy, I made all the mistakes: there was a screen in my bed, I ate sugar too late, I did not look at my husband eye-to-eye before clicking off the light. 

Sleep came hurriedly but, like taking a turnoff on a highway only to discover yourself going too fast on a suddenly-gravel road, I bumped in and out of consciousness. A fly buzzing, a light on and off, a memory of something undone, and then – within an hour – the thump thump thump of little feet making their way to my bed. Whoever spoke of the pitter patter of little feet wasn’t describing how pitter patters echo in the pumpkin hour.

I grizzled and leaned into the little face enquiring. Something about scary. Something about not being able to sleep. Something about wanting to sleep with us. I opened up the covers and felt his warmth clamber over me into the Parental Valley of Bliss. Asleep within minutes, he flung his arm out in slumbering joy, and whacked me in the eye.

Clearly, this was not working.

And, for what was surely the thousandth time in these years of mothering, walking the thousandth weary step in a path tread bare between our bed and theirs, I gathered him up and sighed a martyrs sigh to relocate his tangle of limbs to his own bed. 

The bathroom light flashed across his face as we walked, and his eyelashes made a dramatic shadowed sweep across his cheek’s contour. He stirred, and I spoke a hybrid of comfort-warning close to his ear: “shhhh. sleep.”

His breathed his reply: a whisper, a benediction of night time love: “I love you, Mommy.”

Oh, my baby. Mommy loves you too. 

 

21 thoughts on “Whisper

  1. Oh… this is such a perfect picture of a mother’s heart. There is no denying the hard… but the sweet is sweeter than heaven. As I read, I felt your pain and fatigue, but at the end, my heart swelled at the whispers of your boy. Great post! Beautifully written!

  2. If that’s your five-minute unedited ramble, Bronwyn, I can’t wait to read the book! We’ve come a long, muddy road with our brood, sometimes wondering how many more mistakes we could have made in our ignorance. Here, you remind me that those thousands of little sacrifices nurtured love in blood and bone, transforming mountainous griefs into citadels of hope.

    • Book? Book? (*laughs* *sighs*)
      And I love the way you phrase that: “little sacrifices nurtured love in blood in bone, transforming mountainous griefs into citadels of hops.” Citadels of hope, indeed 🙂

  3. Bronwyn (i love your name) 🙂 i think we all have those nights. a lot. Where we close our eyes on some mistakes and wake up so quickly to the love and needs of others. I’m in that toddler season with my youngest where I get the boot every morning because .icannot.fit. any.longer on the bed. Sweet times 🙂

  4. I really enjoyed this post, Bronwyn! I laughed out loud at the smack in the eyes: I’m starting to wonder if my eyeballs will still be inside my head by the time Jack grows up! And I’ve already sighed the “martyr’s sigh” many times. But the whisper at the end does make it worth it. Jack is still to young to say those words, but the snuggle of his head into my shoulder feels like an overwhelming, large, sincere, “I love you.”

Comments are closed.