06-28-2020, 08:41 PM
l e p i s
I never thought it was a question of whether
The darkness around us is warm and thick, and the soft petals of the peony that fall around my feet as I turn to watch Kestrell perfume the air. The wind sweeps down toward the ocean in the south, and knowing it does not head north brings me no small comfort. The little one beside me is safe, at least for this evening, and I allow my defenses to fall away.
I watch each of his steps with careful intensity, nodding encouragingly even when he wobbles. The need to catch him is hard to stifle. Harder than it had been with Elio, even, though I attribute this to my lack of recent experience mothering. Never before have I gone so long between children. I had actually thought of myself as too old for more a time or two. I have grandchildren now, after all, even if none of them are near to me. But now I have Kestrell, learning to walking right in front of me, small and perfect.
Having only recently made sure he will be provided for in any circumstance, I find it is easier to relax, to let the simple joy of the moment exist without modification.
“Don’t go too far,” I tell him as he toddles toward the edge of my line of sight. With only moon and starlight to illume us, the shrubland of Loess makes for a small place for the colt to explore. I am grateful when he turns back to me, and at his admission smile and nudge him toward my belly. While I wait for him to take his fill, after I shiver a bit at the almost-forgotten sensation, I tell him of his family and of the world he has joined in a soft voice. I name his brothers and sisters, nieces and nephew. I do not speak of a father, because I have determined that he will be mine, just mine, and that the credit for him will not be shared with anyone, least of all the thing that had stolen other parts of my family from me.
He is perfect, and I will be sure that he knows this.
“You should rest now,” I tell him as I smooth the soft black of his baby-sparse mane. “In the morning I will show you Loess.”
@[Kestrell]
I watch each of his steps with careful intensity, nodding encouragingly even when he wobbles. The need to catch him is hard to stifle. Harder than it had been with Elio, even, though I attribute this to my lack of recent experience mothering. Never before have I gone so long between children. I had actually thought of myself as too old for more a time or two. I have grandchildren now, after all, even if none of them are near to me. But now I have Kestrell, learning to walking right in front of me, small and perfect.
Having only recently made sure he will be provided for in any circumstance, I find it is easier to relax, to let the simple joy of the moment exist without modification.
“Don’t go too far,” I tell him as he toddles toward the edge of my line of sight. With only moon and starlight to illume us, the shrubland of Loess makes for a small place for the colt to explore. I am grateful when he turns back to me, and at his admission smile and nudge him toward my belly. While I wait for him to take his fill, after I shiver a bit at the almost-forgotten sensation, I tell him of his family and of the world he has joined in a soft voice. I name his brothers and sisters, nieces and nephew. I do not speak of a father, because I have determined that he will be mine, just mine, and that the credit for him will not be shared with anyone, least of all the thing that had stolen other parts of my family from me.
He is perfect, and I will be sure that he knows this.
“You should rest now,” I tell him as I smooth the soft black of his baby-sparse mane. “In the morning I will show you Loess.”