We Can Be Heroes, Just For One Day

And although I yearned and yearned for this time to move fast, faster, and fastest when it was Des getting to this point, it breaks my heart this time. That little furrowed and screaming and red-faced bundle of joy and pain and wonder and nipple pain. It breaks the heart. He’s still so little. Three months is, well, amazing. He belly laughs and has a strong neck. True that he uses it to bobble around and whine for more milk, but it’s strong. During time on his stomach, he has rolled over twice. He uses his legs to make crawling motions, like a crab stuck in the sand, while simultaneously sucking on his fists. He has wisdom and intelligence and good looks, oh my.

I think he may even be getting more hair, and probably rubbing it off in the back too! He is SO likable and SO lovable and so, so, so liked and loved. You can put him down in his bassinet, smile and pat his chest, and then retreat slowly, backwards, out the door. He is what 2020/2021 needs.

He is what I need; when crying out sometimes in pain, and that beautiful and wise face looks back. He is the hero I need, and he believes I’m the hero he needs. Sometimes, I even believe it.

In the last few months, the linea nigra on my stomach has been fading discreetly, and almost against my will. It’s quiet in this place, until it isn’t. Some things you watch fade, and others are suddenly gone when you think to look again. When you pop your head back up from the sad underground. In fact, my belly button is back to being an “innie” and back to its old skin color. It is sad and hopeful to shed these mementos; to heal. As we both become unfurled – stretching with our strong necks and bright eyes. Our youthful innocence and this unexplainable wisdom.

It has not been an easy road, and most of it is a blur. I know that in between my blurred and tear-filled vision, I have done and have seen it all. I wish it had been easier until now. My heart breaks for the breastfeeding troubles that have had/still have me wincing when he reaches for me. I can be his hero and reach back for him, and I can be my own hero and find good solutions through the troubles. My heart breaks for the pandemic that has kept him from our extended family. For the dark troubles in our nation that actually haven’t gotten better in decades, and probably won’t for many more, if ever. My heart breaks for the deaths and illnesses among loved ones; for the fears of it all. My heart lifts for the hopes of the vaccine, and the everyday heroes.

Yet, things ARE changing; have changed. Conversations are happening; have happened. Voters have spoken, and so have protestors. Fact-checkers are constantly fact-checking, and meme-makers have a strong meme-making game, no matter how fast the ship is sinking. I am finding answers to questions I asked myself as a child; through YEARS of Holocaust and World War 2 studies in Hebrew School and in college. I asked myself who I would be and what I would do, if two sides, if eight sides were all screaming in what sounded to me – like nonsense. Would I retain who I am, and do what I needed to do, and never, ever, ever (ever, ever, ever) give in to that nonsense? Would I NEVER start to hear that nonsense turn into dark logic? Now, I know.

These days, kindness and wisdom seem embedded in our children, and hopefully, our children’s children. Our little wishes and dreams are imprinted upon them, like little kisses of light – on their foreheads and cheeks and noses – that burst and take on new lives of their own. These mini shooting stars will travel, and it will take both seconds and light years, until they get to their destinations. Sparking new conversations and changes; lights and hearts and thoughts.

And know this. When he calls out for me in the night, I am the hero he needs, and when I’m bogged down by politics and COVID and gloomy days; when I’m barely noticed, in pain, and in no position to find the right healing, he is the hero I need. He only needs one look at my face, and his little (big) eyes search mine. I see them going from one eye to the other. He finds what he needs; has always needed, and really only needs right now, and he settles. A smile bursts through his face right then, and I swear it. I swear it. It damn near lights up as big as the sun.