There’s a boy who stole my heart. And he started kindergarten this year. We spent all summer getting ready, with lots of days and nights of sweet snuggling along the way. Lots of cuddles and hugs and I love yous, and lots of kisses on the forehead before bed. Lots of sleeping in and play, silliness and joy.
He is ready for this time. And I couldn’t be more proud of him as I’ve watched him settle into this new chapter in his life. It’s as if he’s done it a million times before. But the memories in my mind continue playing on repeat, like a song I’ve always loved, and I have to let them.
Memories of the little boy who melts the hearts of everyone he meets. Memories of him running to the car at preschool pick up, his face lit up with pure happiness. I pick him up and he asks me in my ear, “Mama, what did you make me today?” His arms wrapped around my neck as we walk away. He’s still glowing from his day, excited to come home and share it with us.
The boy who takes his muddy shoes off from the playground, sometimes tossing them aside on the porch before he tumbles through our red front door. He hops up onto the kitchen counter and asks again. It’s the same question every day, “Mama, what are we making today?” The boy who then helps me bake, and eat, all the best things. The boy who just as quickly changes his mind, that it’s time to play in the sandbox with his toy cars beside his favorite tree, or create a marble maze, or start a puzzle. Laughing with delight as he finishes his masterpiece, “Mama, look! I did it. Now, let’s do it again.”
And I know this energy and enthusiasm will be what powers him through his day. That his curiosity will only grow with each new thing he learns, and each new friend he makes, and sometimes through mistakes along the way. I know that each new experience will turn into a lesson that he’ll carry with him in his heart, helping him on his journey to becoming more of him.
I know I’ll blink one day this year, and it will catch me off guard. And our little boy will have slowly become a boy. And I’ll burst with love and appreciation for all that he’s become, and for all that he’s been. And the song will continue playing on repeat. Like a song I’ve always loved.
I know a piece of my heart will forever miss those days we had him home. And the house will be a bit quieter and less full of his voice, and all he has to say. And things will get done without the eagerness of little hands, wanting to help or be helped. Or reaching up, just looking for a hug. Grabbing my hand with his every step while he shows me the world.
I’ll miss the little hand that reaches to bring me somewhere we’ve been a million times before, always like it’s brand new. And the joyful laughter of him knocking everything down, and then picking it back up again. I’ll miss hearing his words and his radiant energy, that filled the house these past five years, with memories of a little boy. A little boy who lights up any room. A little boy who’s ready. And the song will continue to play, like a song I’ve always loved. And always known.
I’ll miss all these things, but I also know these things that I will miss, he’ll carry with him throughout his day. All of the things I’ll miss, they’ll make him more of him. And if I ever miss him too much or more than words can say, well, the memories will continue to play, like a song I’ve always loved. And always known. About a little boy who stole my heart. A little boy who’s loved infinitely, more than words.
by Jenny Rapson 
by Jessica Wanner 
