16 December 2012
I stand in the kitchen making my son, Ace, his lunch. He's laying in front of the small tv coloring. I have the news on and he listens like he knows exactly what they're saying. Ace bops his head and says random things back to the television like "yes of course" or "no Paul you're silly" . I chuckle silently as the newscaster mentions breaking news and Ace calls him silly again. I'm about to place the jelly back in the refrigerator when I hear something about another shooting. I whip around and find Ace sitting up and staring intently at the screen. I shove the jar back into the fridge and stand behind Ace. He doesn't look like my five year old baby, but like he's seen the world become what it is. I look back to the screen and listen silently. So many babies have become angels within fifteen minutes. So many mothers will never see their smiling faces again. They won't take them to another movie. They won't go to junior high. To high school. To college. They won't experience love. They won't get married and have their own babies. The thought overwhelms me and I sink down into the couch and sob. Ace comes and scurries onto my lap, wrapping his chubby little arms around my neck. I cling to him and cry some more. I'm sure all he understands is that mommy is sad, so he pets my hair and tells me it'll be ok. I lean back to look at him and I nuzzle his cheek. I tell him mommy needs a playmate and he opts to stay home instead of go play with the neighborhood kids. For hours I play tag, hide and seek, monopoly, chutes and ladders, watch movies, and snack on cereal. For hours I appreciate the fact I still have my son. I look over at him and he's asleep on the couch, crayon in hand. I scoop him up. Carry him to bed. Tuck him in. And gently kiss his little forehead. His nightlight is on and creates stars and constellations on the ceiling. I'm about to close the door when I hear a tiny voice ask me to stay. I turn around and find Ace awake and peeping out from his bed. I close the door and cross the room to sit on his bed. Gently, I stroke his hair and watch him drift off slowly. I kiss his little cheek.
"Stay with mommy then." I whisper. He nods wearily and falls asleep.
Stay With Mommy • Opuss № I