First things first ... yes, I know I haven't posted in a few days, and no, I'm not dead. It always strikes me as odd when people write me to ask if I'm dead (way more people than you would imagine actually write and ask me that question when I skip a few days in blogging). I mean, come on ... if I were dead, I'm relatively sure I couldn't reply to an email asking me if I'm dead. While I appreciate the concern as to whether or not I'm still alive and kicking, it sort of messes with my head a little to open an email and read the words, "Hi, Terrie ... missing your posts and wondering if you're dead." Again ... pretty sure if I were dead, I couldn't reply. Unless, of course, there are computers with Internet access in heaven and assuming, of course, that God would actually let me through the pearly gates when I kicked the bucket. My brain really must be on overload tonight because I'm writing about having Internet access in heaven ... sheesh. At any rate, I'm alive and I'm fine ... and yes, I do mean I'm fine. Nuff said.
Near the end of the day at work yesterday, one of my young co-workers called to ask if I could do a favor for her today and watch her 1-year-old son for an hour or so while she went to a meeting. Her little guy was under the weather and couldn't go to daycare, and she really needed to be at the meeting. I immediately said I would be more than glad to look after him, and by the time the afternoon rolled around, I was more than ready to soak up some quality baby time. As I mentioned, the poor little guy wasn't feeling well so all he wanted me to do was hold him while he rested his head on my shoulder. After drinking about half of his bottle, he promptly fell asleep with his little baby head cuddled against my neck and his little baby arms wrapped around mine. There's just something extra special about holding little ones when they aren't feeling well ... rubbing their backs, humming to them, whispering words of comfort in their ears.
I've been thinking all evening about my time with precious little Max today ... about how all the little guy wanted and needed was to be held. He didn't want to play or walk around ... all he wanted and needed was to be cradled in my arms ... he just wanted and needed to be held and rocked and told that everything would be okay. All evening I've thought about how good it felt to know I was not only taking care of Max this afternoon, I was helping his mom do what she needed to do and not worry about her little boy in the process. But there was something else that felt even more awesome ... the feeling of knowing my young friend trusted me to watch over her son ... that, friends, brings tears to my eyes even as I type those words.
Sometimes people ask me what the hardest part of the last couple of years has been, and I never have to think twice about the answer, though it's rare that I share it with anyone. As I sat in my chair at my desk and rocked little Max as he dozed on my shoulder, tears filled my eyes ... all that precious baby boy wanted and needed was for someone to hold him. That's all ... he just needed someone to hold him and tell him everything was going to be okay. I know how you feel, little guy ... I surely do know how you feel.
Thank you, my friend, for trusting me today with the little person who means the world to you ... thank you so very much. And to you, sweet Max ... sweet dreams ... the very sweetest of dreams to you, little one.
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