I count your single freckles like stars
joining them up with my index finger
One,
at the end of your right eyebrow
Two,
in the middle of your back
Three,
just above your left elbow
I am committing to memory the detail of you
As you sleep upstairs
we watch a DVD of me as a baby
I am just a bit older than you are now
On the screen your nana has a perm
and your grandad is the same age as your dad is now
I am wearing a pink and white pram suit, striped like a stick of rock
and I waddle across the beach reaching for a ball
All I can see is you
in the shape of my head
the flick of my top lip
the form of my little body
the serious stare
It is nice to hear my parents call my name
with that soft lilt we reserve for our babies
to see the them look at me the way we look at you
Perhaps one day we will sit together and watch back the videos I’m making of you now
I hope so
The sun this year is late
and it feels like it has rained for most of your short life
When it arrives we have a picnic
Your first
We take up a patch of grass
Half in the sun
for us
Half in the shade
for you
You taste watermelon for the first time
and tentatively run your fingers over the grass
your bare knees scuffed with mud
As your dad blows bubbles
and you chase them
I lie back feeling the warmth on my face
I relax for what feels like the first time since you arrived
and I let myself go to sleep knowing you will still be there when I wake
This post is a follow on from Vignettes of love #1. If you enjoyed it please share it with others or hit the heart button as this makes it easier for others to discover my writing. Sending love x