January 02, 2012

small stone 2

Absent-mindedly ruffling the soft flaxen hair of my youngest son, I realise suddenly how the gentle contours of that lovely head can no longer fit cosily into my hand. His childhood, like his growing bones, is slipping quietly through my fingers, expanding just as it should beyond the bounds of my hands' grasp but not my heart. To love without grasping, to be taught how to be a mother by my son.


  1. Dear Belinda,

    Wishing you and your family a Happy and Sparkling New Year. I hope it will be a beautiful year for the garden and blogging too. What a sweet photo of your son. Time really flies by... My eldest daughter became 22 just before Christmas :-) It feels like yesterday when she was a baby.

    Happy new week,

    Madelief x

  2. gosh, belinda what a beautiful piece of writing...
    a very happy 2012 to you and your family xx

  3. I saw your small stone at WOWH and had to come here to let you know that I thought it was beautiful, touching and so genuine. I felt a small catch in my throat at the moment of realization that his "lovely head could not longer fit cosily." Lovely expression of a most poignant moment.

  4. This touched a chord with me too. A lovely piece, thank you. Jane x

  5. This is so lovely belinda, sometimes I look at my too and think how did that happen?, I miss them, I know that sounds crazy, I miss holding there little hands, looking after them, time just goes so fast. My son is 18 in Feb....Of course I still love them the same, they just don't need me so much now.
    Thanks for sharing x

  6. I used to work in a nearby city. I can vividly remember shopping in Laura Ashley for "Bits" for my unborn child, yesterday we walked around the same area, my daughter is now 22yrs old. Savour every precious moment.

  7. You have reminded me of one of my favourite poems Walking Away by C Day Lewis that ends, "How selfhood begins with a walking away, And love is proved in the letting go."

    A few years ago on a beautiful summer day when my boys were toddlers and were running in front of us my mum turned to me and simply said, "remember this moment" and I do ... often.