Trust

One of my favourite times with my son is after he's waking from sleep.

I pick him up and he flops comfortably on my chest, his legs dangling, his head nuzzled into the crook of my neck and his arms wrapped languidly around my own neck.

After getting comfortable, he'll withdraw each arm and let them both drop down by his side, sometimes tucking them between his belly and my chest.  I have never in my entire life been given such an ultimate sign of trust.

"I don't need to hang on to you, Dad.  I trust you.  You won't let me go."  I wish I could sit in that moment for far longer than it lasts.

Shortly after, he'll stir from his somnolence and get his bearings.

An impish grin will find itself in familiar territory on his face.  He reaches one hand down the neck of my shirt as far down as his armpit will allow.  Extracting it as quickly as he pushed it in, he pulls out a huge handful of pretend food and stuffs it into his mouth, alternating between massive pretend bites and hysterical giggles.

It's then that I know he's just as unbalanced as his dad, and I love him a little bit more.

Comments

[Kristen]

I truly believe that my husband continues to want more children because he enjoys the whole baby on chest experience. The baby is still willing to permit it for a moment or two, but all the older ones refuse. Pretty soon they'll be refusing kisses too...

[Linda]

What a wonderful wonderful world this would be if we could retain even a smidgen of that trust into adulthood. What freedom! And to feel that secure again in the love and protection of another. *sigh*
That "balance" thing, or the absence of it, is perpetuated, passed on from one generation to the next. By example, I think.
;-)

[Mark]

The tuck-the-arms move is the best. The weight of that trust hit me so hard the first time I realized it was there, I wasn't sure I was worthy. Still wonder sometimes.

[Hazel Hazel]

That is precious.