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





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