Sweet Memories

I have often wished for a way to capture those most precious moments when your camera is on the other side of the house and you don't dare move, lest you interrupt the moment you are trying to treasure. Last night around 11, I heard Daniel begin to whimper and then build into a full cry. I hurried to his room and quickly lifted him from his crib. My little guy, who almost never sits still long enough to snuggle, buried his head in my neck and pulled his legs up close, as if attempting to create that fetal ball position from his infancy. I stood there holding him, thinking that at any minute he was going to sit up and start squirming to get down. But he didn't. I swayed back and forth and rubbed his back. Still he snuggled. My arms began to ache. I was so afraid of messing up our 'moment' but I quickly walked to the rocking chair in my bedroom and settled us in together. I held him like a little baby, and we rocked. He rested in my arms as if he weren't really awake. And to be honest I'm not sure he was. His eyes were open, but every once in a while a smile would tug at his lips. Then it would spread quickly to his eyes before taking over his whole face. The process reminded me so much of the way an infant smiles in his sleep, before he has control over his facial muscles. Oh I wanted a picture so badly. But I didn't dare move. He reached over and took hold of my finger, pulling my hand close to his chest. And so we sat. Until at long last, he knew he needed his crib. He began to wiggle and I carefully carried him back to his room. Quietly I tip-toed out the door, waiting for the loud protest to ensue. It didn't. He drifted off to sleep without another noise. Oh what a sweet picture he would have made. Instead I carry the memory in my mind. Such a sweet gift last night.