Yesterday morning, Primo woke up at a glorious 6:45am (that’s considered sleeping in at our place) and he creeped into my bed for our accustomed morning snuggle.
“I had a dream,” he said.
“What was it?” I asked.
“I dreamed that I jumped off a cliff but you saved me. Then I had to save you because you jumped off the cliff to get me.”
My son, that beautiful little boy, already understands what family is – a bunch of people who save each other, not from jumping off the cliff, but AFTER the jumping’s been done.
And that is why all my griping could never make up more than just a tiny smudge, to be washed away by this terrific, awesome, stupefying flood of love and blessedness and gratitude. It is like using the entire Atlantic Ocean to rub out a mark on the counter, made by washable crayon. The smudge doesn’t stand a chance.
Posts
