,
"But I can hardly sit still. I keep fidgeting,
crossing one leg and then the other. I feel
like I could throw off sparks or break a
window ... maybe rearrange all the furniture."
Raymond Carver
All four of my children are very individualistic, and yet reflect similarities. My second son was a wild child in my belly throughout the nine months of pregnancy. He was born into this world with a sense of wonderment, but a distrust of the outside world. He was constant motion, rarely needing to rest.
Within the family, he bounced off walls keeping the atmosphere spiked with energy. He was a trickster and challenger, but of those he loved, he loved well. With eyes so big and blue, he observed everything and everyone. Nothing got passed him and he retained sorrow within his limited understanding of the world. Outsiders would see him as a child who never smiled.
This wild child of mine would grow into a very successful man, a loving husband and proud father. Still unable to articulate the depth of his soul, he teases to show affection and listens with a compassionate heart. This son, he was so easy to nurture but so difficult to release. I still yearn to draw him near and get lost in his unspoken projections.
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