Ethan’s Gift

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There is nothing more precious than the snuggling in and holding on tight kind of hug a three-year old will sometimes give when it comes unsought for, unrequested, just plain right out of the blue.

Sure, we had been playing hard outside all afternoon together, what with racing back and forth in the bright sunshine across the brown lawn, as he gleefully stepped on my poor slow shadow’s head numerous times to my once on his, a game he always delights in.

And then I had willingly taken a seat on the too small bench at the window of his pretend hamburger joint, a little playhouse under a backyard spruce tree. I “enjoyed” with gusto the takeout fries and burger he prepared, somehow magically transformed from the pieces of cedar mulch and the dried out pine cones he hurriedly gathered for my order.

Later he picked a fist-full of yellow miniature daffodils, and nodding Snowdrops and placed them on a crumb-covered plate on the patio table — a gift for Mummy. Next to it was a scattering of small coloured stones from the driveway, collected for Daddy.

A screeching flock of black grackles dispersed in a flapping rush at the sound of his shouts of “Go! Go! Go!” accompanying the clatter of two old dented cake tins that he banged together underneath the locust tree each time the birds returned. The bespattered backyard deck, under the tree’s budding branches, revealed the noisy grackles other annoying habit, and he did not want them to mess on the table where his treasures lay. Beside those lay the pile of coloured paper clips and magnets he had abandoned there earlier —all but the red ones, his favourites, which were protruding from the cracks between the deck boards under his chair, next to his yellow bulldozer.

We capped the afternoon with a game of King of the Castle played on every boulder and landscaped berm around the three acre yard, with me doing all of the boosting up and him doing all of the boasting down: “I’m de King of de castle! You’re de dirty rascal!” I chose not to protest the unfairness of my perpetual “dirty rascal” position even as he clung tightly to my uplifted hands, while teetering four feet off the ground on a slippery granite rock, his chubby fingers drawn into tight little fists around my own bent ones.

Looking up into his laughing eyes, as he looked down at me from his elevated position, I said to him “You know Ethan, you are growing bigger and bigger every day. One day when you are all grown up you will be as big as this all of the time, and then you will have to look down at your old Aunt Vonnie all of the time.” Just then he let go of my fingers and bent down a little to get his arms around me. He snuggled in close and gave me a hug so tight it practically took my breath away. Or perhaps it was not really so very tight at all; but it had the same effect. I realized then, that I had just experienced one of life’s unforgettable moments. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

 

About Yvonne's Musings

Being the second of eight kids born in 11 years to my busy parents ultimately was a real advantage to me. I learned very early that if you wanted to be heard amidst all the noise the best way to accomplish it was to write your thoughts down. My first post to my mother," i hate skool. i cried at skool tooday!" was stuck with ABC chewing gum to the lid of the diaper pail, where I was certain that she would find it. Her attention quickly elicited in me a love of writing that has been life long. Seeking a wider audience I have decided to now, decades later, blog. Happy reading Mom! This is for you!

5 responses »

  1. Dear Vonnie, What a wonderful day, beautifully described! Your interaction with Ethan is so special and memorable. You are truly blessed and so are the little ones with whom you spend time. Thank you for sharing your memories. They’re priceless. For all those years I enjoyed working and indeed playing with little kids. They’re so innocent and loving. I guess we came by the ease and enjoyment of interacting with children due to our family life and the sweet way Mom played with us. Yes she was strict but also a fun-loving mother. I am looking forward to seeing everyone back there in a couple to three weeks. Meanwhile I’m really enjoying it down here this year. Take care. Lots of Love, Marsha

    On Sun, Apr 3, 2016 at 4:13 PM, Yvonnes Musings wrote:

    > Yvonne’s Musings posted: “There is nothing more precious than the > snuggling in and holding on tight kind of hug a three-year old will > sometimes give when it comes unsought for, unrequested, just plain right > out of the blue. Sure, we had been playing hard outside all afternoon to” >

  2. These little people speak volumes with a hug .

    On Sun, Apr 3, 2016 at 4:13 PM, Yvonnes Musings wrote:

    > Yvonne’s Musings posted: “There is nothing more precious than the > snuggling in and holding on tight kind of hug a three-year old will > sometimes give when it comes unsought for, unrequested, just plain right > out of the blue. Sure, we had been playing hard outside all afternoon to” >

  3. Conjuring words to make people feel. Wordcraft. ‘Arms wrapped around’, ran through it
    Well done. Emotive and evocative.
    Or in simple vernacular… that was freakin awesome.

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