Little Corners

His little whimpers nudged me from my sleep. Although in another room, I swear I could hear his soft breaths as they hit his sheets.

Silence. He found sleep . . .

My meager attempts at finding comfort were fruitless. Those little cries were unlike his usual pleas. There was pain in those cries. The soft edges of the sing-song requests for mommy were not to be found.

As I slowly made my way to his room, avoiding the grunts and moans of the floorboards, I peered in. He was still. Peaceful. Silent.

But I was not. Dark and crushing images suddenly flooded my mind. Images I dare not share with you for fear that giving them voice will make them real.

Teething. Overtired. A nightmare. Just not himself. Perfectly normal, acceptable reasons why J is not my happy, smiley, good-natured boy. Makes perfect sense.

But yet my mind won't stop.

He awoke this morning in a fit of tears. His face did not light up upon seeing me enter his room. The tears only came at a faster pace. I reached for him and he grabbed at me. Pulling my face to his, he wrapped his arms around my neck and his legs around my waist. His little fingers grasping at the collar of my shirt as his rigid body shook in my arms.

He was afraid.

I was afraid.

He calmed after a moment and his head slumped against my shoulder. We lay on the sofa in the living room. His body relaxed against mine. I moved my hands up and down his back as I felt the comforting rhythm of his heart beat against my chest.

As I watched the soft fluffs of his hair move with each exhale of my measured breaths, my eyes filled with tears. And I'm not sure I know why.

J was scared. His fear surged like bullets through my body, piercing my heart and ripping through my brain.

I don't scare easily. My past has taught me to expect the worst. To embrace it. I have little doubt that my brief encounter with fear will be fleeting. But I am never ill-prepared for its return.

Joy is fickle, indiscriminate as to where it stakes its claim. When joy claims a little corner of my life, I watch it with a raised eyebrow and knowing smirk on my face, waiting for it to take off and laugh as it leaves me . . . alone. Joy and fear. Fear and joy. Constant conflict. Regular bedfellows.

Pessimistic?

Maybe.

But, I refuse to take anything or anyone for granted. I refuse to not say I love you . . . I care about you . . . I celebrate this moment . . . simple moments . . . peaceful moments . . . the not-so-perfect moments. Why? Because you are here. With me.

Because in an instant, life can change. Joy can rush in leaving you breathless and a moment later rush out leaving you with nothing.

J is sleeping. I hear his sighs, his deep breaths, the little hum of peaceful slumber.

For now, peace.

Joy. Stuck in that little corner. Not going anywhere.

I won't let it.