Posted on | August 28, 2012 | 2 Comments
Lately, I’ve been struggling with what to write and what to say here in this space I’ve created over the past two and a half years. I’ve sat and stared at my keyboard, willing words to pour from my fingertips and dazzle you all with wit and insight. I’ve deleted and revised and restarted and given up more times than I can count. And then yesterday, when I picked J up from school he reminded me why I started writing here in the first place.
For his birthday, J got a game called Elefun. If you’re not familiar with it, it’s basically a motorized fan in the shape of an elephant head that blows little colored “butterflies” up through the elephant’s long nose and out into the room. The purpose of the game is to catch as many butterflies as you can in your net.
Oh my gosh does J love this game. He wants to play it again and again and again. He grabs his net and runs in circles saying “I got one! I almost got one! I missed one” until the last butterfly flutters up and out and down to the floor.
I picked him up from school and he clambered into the car and asked, immediately, if we could go home and play Elefun. And yeah, of course we could. And we did.
I’m overwhelmed by his enthusiasm for that game. He is completely focused, doesn’t care if he wins or loses, and throws himself into catching the butterflies with reckless abandon. He misses more often than not, but man does he delight in the ones he catches.
And when I watch him fluttering around, knees to chest in a silly dance of joy, I’m reminded to let go a little of my own apathy. I’m reminded that this is what life is really about, throwing yourself in full speed until the last butterfly slowly falls. I’m reminded that each and every moment of my life with J is finite and the moments that he will run anywhere while giggling “Come on, Mommy!” are slowly fluttering away.
His childhood will trickle away through time, joining my own in distant memory. But here, here in this space… I can do something special. I can do the only thing I’m able to do… grab a net, ready my stance, and catch as many of the memories as I possibly can; pinning them here, delicately preserved and sweetly remembered for as long as we both shall live.