Turning Pages

The best grandparents

Where did the years go?

Little fingers wiggle,

Tickle my hands,

As I turn the pages

To “Goodnight Moon.”

A gurgle, a hiccup, a yawn;

The moon, just as swollen as the one on the page,

Rests, high outside the baby blue checked curtains,

Suggests a story be told.

Lights off, I kiss his forehead

That glows in the moonlight.

Little fingers point

To the scariest of all

As I turn the pages

Of “Where the Wild Things Are.”

His legs bounce until

They can’t be stopped,

And he jumps to the floor

To show me his wildest monster dance;

A roar, a growl, a giggle.

“The moon is turning me into a werewolf,”

He says.

“Ooh…you better run to dreamland

Where it’s safe.”

Lights off,

I kiss his forehead that peeks out

From under a Cookie Monster quilt.

He balances the book

On bent knees,

Tucked toward his chest,

And turns the pages of

“The Graduation of Jake Moon.”

As I listen to him read,

We laugh at the funny scenes

We can see like a film;

He laughs as I dab my watery eyes

At the end of the chapter;

But it is a sad story

And deserves tears.

Lights off,

I kiss his forehead,

Hidden under too long bangs,

Like parting weeping willow branches.

Heavy eyelids beg to stay open,

But the room is dark

In the moon’s crescent light,

So I kiss his warm forehead,

Thankful for the moment.

Overnight, it seems,

Monster-size feet criss-cross

On the old oak coffee table

In between a monster-size glass of milk

And Oreos.

“The Outsiders” is open,

His favorite.  

The moon will sleep before my son,

So I sail blown kisses

Over the cover

And wish him goodnight.

Goodnight Son.

I save the books

That can’t be saved forever

To hold the moments

Before the end of days.

********

All your children will be taught by the Lord, and great shall be their peace.

Isaiah 54:13 NIV