Object PermanenceJuly 26, 2010 at 5:00 pm | Posted in Bun, Family, Giggles, Lollipop | 34 Comments
Tags: Babies, Children, Health, Life, Memory, Mortality, Motherhood, Relationships
Bun is not yet old enough to grasp the concept of object permanence, to understand that even though he can’t see something, it still exists. Somewhere.
This upsets him. Especially when it’s me he can’t see.
When I put him down for a minute to stir the macaroni or kiss a boo-boo. When I let go of his hand before he’s fully asleep. When he wakes up to see the ceiling fan whirring above him instead of me, smiling.
Oh, how he cries, that fledgling voice wailing more desperately with each passing moment. His hardwired instincts know there’s something out there, someone warm and soothing, somewhere he belongs. But he can’t quite remember what it is; he can only feel its shadow and his deep-rooted need for it. For me.
I’m scheduled for surgery today. It’s minor. It’s routine. It’s probably nothing. Four doctors have told me so.
Most of me believes them. The rest of me is terrified.
Because it’s not routine to me. It’s my health. It’s my life. It’s my fear of not being here, my fear of not being permanent.
None of us are. I know that.
But I think of the years I’ve lived, the days I’ve wished would end, the moments I’ve wanted to last forever. I think of the short time I’ve been a mother — the first tentative snuggles, the bittersweet milestones, the fiercest love I know.
I want more. I want that love to be permanent, even though I’m not.
And I want my children to remember how deeply my heart holds them. How I peel their apples and sing silly songs. How the best part of my day is just before I go to bed, when I slip into their rooms and watch them dream for one quiet moment. How I stroke their hair simply because I yearn for their touch.
Will they remember? Or will they only feel my shadow and their deep-rooted need to be soothed, to be mothered?
Will they understand that even though they can’t see me, I’m still there?
How do you cope with your own mortality? How do remember to appreciate and celebrate each day? And do you view your blog as a legacy of sorts?