Tonight the cold descended on Little Rock. Beautifully crisp and clear, the night called out for our first fire. So built it we did and enjoy it we did. It was perfect.
The sun set. I turned on some music and the Dixie Chicks' song, “Bitter End” came on.
“Farewell to old friends, let’s raise our glass to the bitter end.”
This song always makes me think of endings and beginnings. I’ve said goodbye to many friends throughout my tenure. Each time I hear these lyrics, I think of those friends, not often seen but still just as dear. As I sat there in the fire lit dusk, listening, Henry paused by my perch on the couch. I kissed his sweet blond head, soaking up his two-year-old-boy scent. Like a gust of the cold front blowing outside, I catapulted to the future; to his leaving for college, to his wedding day. To many steps, that I want him to take, no matter how much they make my heart ache. It would make my heart ache more if he did not or could not take them.
As I was projecting to the future, Henry hopped onto his riding Mater (from Cars, you know, "just like tuh-mater without the tuh"…), looked up at me and said,
And ambled away.
Just a slice of what’s to come. I’ll wish him well as I’m raising my glass to my bittersweet end and his joyous beginning, which will, as it always does, become my blissful beginning, too.
P.S. I bolted upstairs to my computer to write this. Henry must have seen me because I just heard a sound traveling down the hall toward me. He came into the room with a grin and his big, yellow Tonka truck. He said, “Hi Mommy!”. Ahhhhhh. Yet another joyous beginning.