When my boys came home yesterday, Miles was the first one to bust through the door with a bang. He was talking fast about a park, a place he had played with his cousins on their trip. It seemed very urgent, what he had to say, while he held his hand behind his back. His sun-kissed cheeks were just a shade darker than three days before and I felt like I'd missed so much. It was so good for all of us, this short time apart, but then there he was, somehow suddenly older, maybe even taller, and just so perfect.
When he pulled that hand out from behind his back he was saying he found something at that park and then he saved it for me.
Here you go, Mama.
It's a small yellow hair binder, one that must have belonged to a busy little girl. It was dirty and obviously over-stretched from all the times it was pulled wide for a pony.
To my boy this was not garbage, it was something that made him think of the Mama he was missing. And so he held it for another two hours on the drive home, fingers playing with it's springy squishiness, fidgeting like he always does under the seat belt he now puts on all by himself. He had a plan in that busy little noggin of his, to hide this treasure behind his back and surprise me...
He did that for me. I'm going to keep it forever.