In our house there is a hammock in a corner of a room surrounded by lots of glass and tall, green plants.
And ever since Graham was just a few days old, it is to this hammock in the corner of this room, that I have retreated with my boy in my arms to croon the same song: Happy Together by the Turtles.
"Me and you and you and me,
No matter how they toss the dice,
It had to be,
The only one for me is you,
And you for me,
So happy together."
And Graham doesn't fit into my arms the way he used to, but nonetheless we still retreat to that same hammock a few times a week and I still sing that same song to him. And every time I do I imagine that he is feeling the same sense of love and connectedness that I am.
We were swaying and I was softly crooning when Graham interrupted our reverie.
"Mommy please don't sing that song anymore."
I was taken aback.
"But I thought you loved that song."
"Well, I do like that song. But I just don't want you to sing it anymore."
"But Graham, mommy loves to sing it."
"BUT MOMMY!! I am just saying that I would just rather that you didn't sing that song anymore, OKAY?!"
And so it goes.
Thank you each and every one for your comforting words, support and thoughtful advice on Saturday 's post. They made a difference, they really did: much love and appreciation.