He glanced up from his toys one afternoon and asked me, “Momma, was I here when you were born?”
I looked at him – my sensitive, thoughtful, three-year-old son – and answered, “No, honey, you weren’t here when I was born.”
He considered this for a moment, then asked, “Was I here when Daddy was born?”
“No, sweetheart,” I responded, “you weren’t here.”
Another pause. “Was I here when Sissy was born?” he asked, meaning Margaret, his much-adored, six-year-old big sister.
“No, James,” I said, looking gently into his wide, brown eyes. “You weren’t here when Sissy was born. You hadn’t been born yet.”
A lengthy silence ensued. Then, “Momma?”
“Yes?”
“Did you miss me when I wasn’t here?”
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
I can’t count the number of times this sweet, existential, innocent question has echoed back to me over the years, nor can I recall precisely how I responded as I pulled my darling boy into my arms to cuddle him close. I do know how my heart answers every time — even now, though he’s grown and gone:
Oh, my precious child, yes. Yes, I did.
This makes me think of how I knew our family wasn’t complete yet when we had a son and a daughter. I was missing someone else. Thanks for making me smile.
And you were missing someone so special, Lisa! Now I’m smiling, just thinking of her. Blessings to you and all your darlings~
Such a sweet recollection.
They are so missed.
Priceless!
Priceless — yes. xoxo