besprent

As someone's child, I asked many questions. But, as a parent, I have begun to question everything. There is a difference.
Until our son came, I was curious about the world, about people, about how it all fit together... out there in the world beyond myself. But suddenly, in Edward, the world, the world that is so much more than myself is beyond myself.
And now, in his being, I know danger. Not just physical threats, pillows, ill-adjusted car seats, too close to the edge threats, but the empire of words already surrounding our dear boy. The whole universe of ideas that are steadily sinking in, connecting, snapping into place, his perception of all that is is rapidly taking shape. And it feels like every word, image, voice will somehow be etched on his growing bones. In genetics, there is a certain frame in place. The beams, the foundation- whether he will be a cottage or a castle so to speak, it is there. And he will spend a lifetime filling in the rest, tearing down, building up, battling fires and drought and floods.
But here, as his mother, I hear the words of passersby- "The sky is the limit...," Anything is possible..."
And it irks me a little. Because it's not. Not in the sense that one can do anything if they set their mind to it. It's a grand and lovely idea to entertain. And if we didn't have a life to live, love to fall into, family and a God and society, strange circumstances, dreadful governments. Yeah- I guess the sky would be the limit.
As it stands, our boy will have to battle it out like the rest of us.
Perhaps I am a pessimist in not expecting him to find the cures or eradicate hunger. Because there will just be a new disease, and the poor will always be with us. For our dear little man, I pray for simplicity, truth and goodness. A deep seated compassion that warms them with his smile and his sweet words are like honey to their souls. I pray that he finds contentment in the small matters and does not wile away his precious life trying to figure out why he can't fly.