Blakey Musings...

I watch my Blakey playing with his little stuffies. Two dolls, a small frog and a blue cat with red and blue shoes. I smile softly feeling his innate sense of love and acceptance even in this child play.


Blakey - I haven't written in this blog for so long and so many months and even years have passed on by. But I felt the urge to share a bit of him with you this morning, wanting to give you this picture of a soul that has almost become closer to me than my own in these years that have raced away from his birth. I didn't dream of having a child like most young girls. If I did imagine being pregnant, I felt some fear and terror over it all. But Blakey's spirit must have called to me from across the divide of spirit and body because the summer I turned 33 I could not stop thinking about this little soul I knew I wanted to have. I didn't imagine baby things or nurseries or cribs. I didn't relish the thought of a baby the way perhaps others do. Rather, that hot summer in which I camped and traveled to Texas to see family, I knew that I wanted a child. I wanted a soul that would be close to my heart and perhaps even in those moments I sensed at this spirit that is so present even in these poignant moments of Blakey resting his little doll atop the couch cushion and having a deep conversation with it.

 

His spirit has never altered for me, from those first ultrasounds in which I saw a tiny being kicking and fighting with all his might to stay alive, to the bruises on my ribs from his constant kicking when I was so far pregnant, to these moments now when he looks back impishly on our long walks thru so many wild places. Adventures we call them - so many adventures and always me staring with gentle and loving heart at this blond haloed boy who trots so quickly ahead of me.


He is different then so many other children. He isn't typical. I didn't know until brief moments after his dramatic entry into this world that he was different, an extra chromosome laced thru every cell of his body. And yet, now I think of that chromosome as a filigree of sorts, a grace note or an ornament placed just so to accentuate the main notes and decorations. He is something extra even in his personality and in his carriage. His spirit senses at others in a way that far extends beyond his short years. He will know when someone needs a hug or a brief hi and wave. And I watch him work his magic on people at the grocery store or the library or the park. He is all soul and heart and enigma. He is a magnet personality and draws those that need his extra love in their lives.


Often I watch from what feels like an off stage position. I watch Blakey making his own magic and wielding his own persona with mastery and grace on this grand stage of glorious life. He seems to need so little guidance as he falls into this unique place in life where he reaches out and touches those around him. He is an old soul; of that I am sure. He has been here so many more times than I have and I learn from him in his easy way and generous heart. I watch in fascination and pride. But really it is a pride in being chosen to be his momma and nothing more. I did not shape this lovely spirit that I felt so long before I was pregnant. I did not mold this tiny being - I have created his body inside of mine, yes. And I have given him sustenance and shelter, but he is so much more than those things I could have imparted. And I know that and I am honored in it.


Blakey is kindness. Blakey is love. Blake lives in the present and inspires me to do the same. There is no future worry or past regret. He just is and as such I find myself yearning to model my life after his. He has taught me far more than I could have in reminders to eat his veggies or keep his clothes on (that should make you chuckle) or that he might try better to listen to momma. He is so much more than the tiny things of life and yet he somehow reminds me to value the smallest things. He pretends dandelion seeds are bubbles as he waves those tiny stems. He tells me that flowers are nice as he bends and tries to sniff and afterwards grandly sneezes. And trees are to be kissed and admired. He hugs a lamppost and marvels at its height and he notices a tiny artfully constructed leaf that I might have stepped right over and he picks it up and gracefully hands it to me. There is living magic in everything he tells me. There is wonder in dancing rainbows created by a spinning prism. There are tickles and tiny giggles in a small bug that runs over his hand. There is wonder in old wood fences that separate and shiny rocks that plunk in the deep water and Blakey can stare in curiosity for so long that I begin to wonder at these miraculous things too. 

I watch from these sidelines...Open your arms wide and he will run to them and give you the grandest hug all the while popping his foot behind him and air kissing your cheek. Then he will smile and light up all the space between you both and things will just feel brighter. This magic he spins and this aura he creates.

And so I follow after him always curious for our next adventure. I see short chubby strong legs bounding ahead of me. My most frequent view - the back of Blakey as I run to stay up with him. Head spun in shimmering sunlight, arms pumping at his sides and his entire being radiating strength; he looks back to scream to me in his joy and exuberance. I laugh and try to snap a picture at that moment. I have far fewer pictures of his face then I do of the back of him. It seems he is always moving forward. Sun dappled paths and green grassy carpets...sidewalks that are mysterious paths to the unknown and trees that obscure the possibilities to be discovered. Under and over and in and out...weaving his magic and I feel as tho a trail of shimmering stars follows his shoes and I reach to touch them and maybe capture one in my hand. Stardust and rainbows...this is my little boy with the heart of an old wise soul.