For when he says, Mama, do you like me?
For when there are inside-out socks on the lawn, the porch, the entry rug, and the living room floor
For when he texts from the north country to say he misses you
For when there are no eggs or milk left, and its breakfast time
For when he writes more than 1,000 words, prints them all out, and wants you to read them aloud
For when a little house feels like a castle
For when you wonder if you have what it takes
For when the sky turns from dark to dawn, and you get to see it
For when a deer eats every purple pansy, save for one
For when the deer comes back for the one he left
For when there are words full-up in your mind, but you're not sure if they are the right ones
For when you find yourself with a paint can open, once again
For when you have to play Mancala four times in order to beat him
For when you have to wait a little longer
For when the breath of earth is a little too warm, even into the night
For when he plays his own songs on his guitar
For when friends share from their gardens
For when he parks the mower and whoops out loud
For when they swing on a rope across the creek
For when you do it, too
For when you hold these things with an open hand, giving and receiving at the very same time
What are you holding today?
