Tonight as I was snuggling my kidlet, he reached over his bed and grabbed his copy of Where the Wild Things are. I've read it to him many times, and he loves it. It is a fantastic story of a naughty child who gets sent to bed without his supper and either has a wonderful imagination or falls asleep. He has an adventure and meets the Wild Things. He discovers that he's actually lonely for someone who loves him. He chooses to come home and his momma has brought his dinner into him and it's still hot.
OK, so I'm sure most of you have read this story and maybe you get it and maybe you don't. It doesn't really matter.
What matters is, I opened the book and there was a message from Uncle Nate and Aunt Ginny inside the front cover. It said they couldn't wait to meet baby Roe and that this book was Nate's favorite as a little boy. The note also mentioned how they couldn't wait to read this book to him, and someday when he's big, for him to read it to them.
Whoa. It was like a sack of bricks falling on me. The instant tears. I sat in bed with my three year old and sobbed. Gut wrenching sobs of the things that will never be. It was only a few minutes, and Cole waited patiently as the tears fell.
Then in his gentle loving voice, he asked me what was wrong and told me he loved me. He has truly been my grief partner-- I don't mean that in a bad way; merely in the sense that he has been there with me when everyone else has been gone. I know that God gave me Cole during the most difficult time of my life to grow me, help me not become selfish, and to see love in his brilliant blue eyes.
So, we read and had an adventure both with Max and Cole. We snuggled and sang Beatles songs (so much for the lullaby tonight, huh?!) and he feel asleep. I have been mulling his love and grace for me over and over in my mind. How blessed I am to be Cole's Momma.