wistful, part 3

We played together today, my youngest lad and I. It was an impromptu game of kitchen soccer. There was laughter and lightness. This wouldn’t have happened two years ago. He had to leave for school in order to be present. I remember another time of play in the front yard while we waited for the others to come home. He asked me to cut out a heart and he wrote his name and Mom on it. It hangs in a special place I see daily. I remember the boy he was, bright eyed and big hearted, and that boy is emerging from the teenage cocoon. I have to remember to hold on loosely. 

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