Stolen Pillows

I lie beside him and look with longing at what lies beneath his head, I move closer wanting to share.  He has had a ‘night mirror’ as he calls them, and has come to seek shelter and warmth in my warm cocoon. 

His disheveled brown hair, rosy red cheeks, and pink lips remind me of a cherub;  although sometimes when he is awake he grows horns and stomps his feet, most often when he has been told he cannot have his way, or when a nap is needed.

I am careful not to disturb his Duplo dreams, while I breathe in his slumbered scent.  It reminds me of days past, when as a baby he shared my bed and I barely slept as I listened for a halting breath, which would signify a possible soul release.  Those days are past us now, and I wave at them with a smile.  Both he and my worries have grown, evolving as we mature and get to know each other.  I smile; it seems like eons ago I was taking a black and white photo of his ten tiny toes to send with his birth announcement.  Yet my mind knows it was only mere years. 

I snuggle up to him, the curve of his back to my breast, listening to soft snores.  I lie in the darkness knowing that all too soon these nights will come to an end.  Just like the hugs and holding hands in public will.  I wonder how much more time I will have before he doesn’t tell me anymore that one day he is going to marry me.  When I will stop being his best friend and become a foe to rebel against? 

Will I become a third party to his life and all he experiences?

I must remember to give him space when that time comes, so he will be able to stretch his wings.  I will remind him that I am here if need be, no matter what that need is.  I will watch him struggle, just like when he took his first steps, but I know he will prevail if only I trust and let him work through it.  I think that will be the hardest part for me, learning to let go, while still holding on backstage.  For right now I am going to enjoy every one of these moments when he comes in to share my bed, and robs me of my pillow.