Keening

As is usual, the family was all over the place last night. We sort of fall asleep where we may and it works for us. Last night ended up with Patrick on the couch with Evan and me sleeping beside Corinne upstairs. I took a moment to just stare at her profile and couldn't resist stroking her forehead, cupping her cheeks, and marveling in the beauty that is my 10 year old girl. I am so grateful that I can still sleep beside her and hold her in her sleep. It's the one time that I can hug them to my heart's desire, and she is the last one that still fits into the criteria of being ok to sleep beside. Trust me, no 13 or 16 year old boys want their mom to crawl into bed with them for a full body hug. 

Good God, I miss them, though. I miss that closeness that can only come from an extended embrace. I miss the familiarity of their skin and breath. 

Have you ever keened? It's a longing that literally cuts through your heart, into your stomach. You can FEEL the ache in every cell of your body...and I keen for my babies. Last night found me gasping sharply at the memory of Justin, age 3, curled up beside me in our too-small full size bed in the attic bedroom of our first home. His absolute trust and complete love for me... I had to hold my breath so as not to wake Corinne from my cries when I pulled up a perfect memory of Evan's sweet voice asking me to sing "You Are My Sunshine" just 'one more time, Mommy' as I laid beside him on his big boy bed in the big boy dinosaur bedroom... 

I miss my babies. My body rejects the knowledge that they are pulling away with a quickening speed. My mind understands it, but my cells... I can't breathe for thinking of it. I honestly can't catch my breath and the keening is fierce.

It's a struggle to not smother Corinne. I don't want her childhood to be full of memories of me saying only "I miss when you were little!" as though I am not enjoying the present, because I AM. I love these moments deeply and fully. They're flying by, and soon, they will be over, and I will be a mother without anyone to mother.