While lounging on a bean bag on Friday, I was trying to ignore the voice in my head that said to clean! cook! do laundry! get things done! rather than reading, as I was.
And then I heard, “Can I cuddle wiff you mommy?”
And it was chicken-pox boy, Zeli, looking for something to do.
“Of course, sweetie,” I replied.
He sunk into the bean bag and proceeded to burrow into my chest.
A few quiet minutes passed, while I was immersed in my book and in the squishy comfort of a delicious cuddle.
Suddenly, from the quiet space around us I heard,
“I wuv you mommy.”
And my heart melted.
And I was reminded, yet again, that only in the quiet moments, in the stillness when I feel that I’m “wasting time,” do I typically create the space for such beauty. How profound would have been my loss if I had insisted on cooking, cleaning or doing laundry during that half hour, missing this cuddle and expression of love.
I held him tight as I replied, “I love you too buddy.”
What's that famous expression? "In a hundred years, no one will remember how shiny your floors were or if you made three or four side-dishes every Shabbat. All that will matter is if you made a difference in the life of a cuddly boy with chicken pox." Or something like that. 🙂