Hello the House!

       I walk into the house, without my husband and girls tonight. I step into the dark entry, weighty in its silence and it seems empty, but I am not alone. "Hello the house!" I smile, turning on the little lamp in the living room, its glow dim but already warming the space like a sunrise, illuminating the shelf where my little man waits. 

     Griffin's box hasn't moved, his photo remains next to his sisters, perched high enough to catch our gaze when we  wake and step downstairs every morning, when we come home from a day away, and especially when we're spending quality time with family. He is here, to be part of our lives everyday in what small physical way he can. 

       He doesn't wait here at home for me though in anything more than that box. In spirit, I strap him in for the ride to work in the morning, leaving him for short stretches in the backseat of my mind as I listen to songs on the radio or catch up with friends. At times it seems he is sitting there between his sisters, watching the scenery fly by the windows and marveling at the noisiness of their world. I can't seem to drop him off though, at some daycare, like I can with the girls. I can't leave him with anyone else to parent. 
       He tags along everywhere, this weekend in particular, to our hometown and a visit with extended family. I probably bored him to tears with pastries and tea parties and prettily wrapped presents, but babies don't venture far from their mamas anyway at only three months old, so I'm sure he was patient with me. I left his sisters and daddy behind as I loaded up the car to trek back tonight, having to work again tomorrow, and I couldn't help but tuck him in tight. Quiet as he was after a long day, I peeked in on him almost the whole way home, only able to listen to a few songs and chat with my sister for a short call. The drive flew by though with him by my side!

And even though I technically walked into this house by myself, I am not really ever alone . 
I climb the stairs to my room, to my big king size bed, to my lamp just like his, dim and fading light, now like a sunset as I close my eyes for the night. I blow a kiss to my son and wish him sweet dreams, knowing that he will be in mine.




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