All That I Need

Originally shared at our Facebook page in early 2016.

Our younger son, now 8, has been denying me bear hugs and kisses since he was about 3 - I guess there is a part of him that feels like he is too grown up for public displays of affection, especially in front of his friends.

I've taken solace in our tradition - started earlier this year - of making eye contact and exchanging a wave as he trots into school with his Charlie Brown-like friends. No matter how large the crowd of friends, the moment before he disappears through the entrance, he looks back to find my face and gives me a solid wave with his tiny hand. I've come to realize that this little moment of connection is confirmation that behind his spirit of independence is a tender heart that loves deeply and knows how much he is loved.

This morning, there was a delay in the school doors opening, so when the crowd of children was finally allowed to enter, I saw that the collective rush to move forward made our son forget to look back to wave. I waited there on the grassy boulevard, watching the last few dozen children enter while imagining him climb the three flights of stairs to his classroom with his little buddies.

When the school doors closed, I turned to begin the walk home, and just as I was about to lose sight of the school through my peripheral vision, I saw him, lunch box in hand, waving madly through the glass doors. I must have split my lips smiling back and waving at him like a goofy dad. He came back down those stairs because he remembered that we missed our wave. As he disappeared again to ascend to his classroom, I felt like I was going to burst with love and gratitude. In scrambling down those stairs without any guarantee that I would still be there, our son gave me all that I need in this world.

May we all experience more of these moments in the days ahead.