(Would you accept a gift from the likes of him? Good thing he wasn't seen. Tricky Brigham.)
I worry as a mother. My worry rotates from child to child. It's ever-changing. So, often my attention, my awareness, is heightened and focused more on one kid than the others. And like I said, it jumps from one to another. Does that happen to you? Lately, I've been so focused on Annie and Lincoln. They've been pretty needy. Because of that, Brigham has suffered. Not physically, but maybe a little emotionally. He's a "spend time with me" kind of kid. I guess it's time to rotate. Brigham's been a little removed from me. And I can feel it. I've been trying to feel him out, but I hadn't been able to break through 'til tonight.
The kids were all tucked in. I decided to lay beside him and wait for him to talk. He didn't talk. But, little by little, a hand found mine. A foot touched my knee. A cheek found my shoulder. Before I knew it, half his body was entangled in mine, all snuggled up and comfy. I'm hoping he knew then how much I loved him . . . without having to say it. And then a line from our Christmas story tonight came back to my mind, "The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see." He's right. You can't see love, but you can feel it. And there's nothing quite like it.