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End of the Day

July 15, 2010

After Shane goes to bed we let him read for quite a while.  I happened to walk in and he seemed glum.

I asked, “Why are you sad?”

He glanced up, thought for a second and said, “I’m not sad.”  He paused again and pointed out the obvious:  “My book is here, in front of me, on this bed.” He pointed  down toward the mattress, where he had been looking when I walked in,  then continued matter-of-factly.  “If  my book were over there,” (He extended his hand, fingers straight, palm up, indicating the couch across the room), “I would be looking up, but it would be hard to read.”

This was true.  I said I was glad he was feeling okay.  He nodded then asked, “Do you want to lay down with me for a minute?”

I considered the checklist of “to do’s” to take care of before my day would be “done.”  Then I mentally flashforwarded  20 years  to a time when I might recall this moment.  And I did what future Dee Dee would want me to have done.  I hit the pause button on the laundry and checklist and laid down, and kissed his soft cheeks and the tip of his cute little button nose.

Truly I can’t remember what we talked about.  Nothing deep or earth moving.  But I remember the way he smiled when I said I would stay.  And THAT was worth every check on the list.

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