gifts. all the big and the little ones.

Nine.

He’s been our boy for nine of the speediest years I’ve ever lived.

There are days when this boy cannot keep his bum in a seat for a single half hour math lesson. Days when he bumps, jumps and hops his way through every room of our house from rise to fall of the sun. Sometimes he doesn’t use the kind words to his sisters that I would prefer.

But then there’s other times.

Oh my word. The other times.

The other times are just so overwhelming.

The times that make my heart physically hurt, so profoundly that I fear it may burst.

We were at our weekly Trader Joe’s outing. At the check out lane, Bergen slid behind me and whispered, “We aren’t done shopping yet. There’s one more thing to buy.”

I could see he was hiding something behind his back.

The basic rule of all mothering is to not ruin sweet surprises – right?

So I turned my head slightly so my very shy newly-turned-nine-year-old could complete his transaction. I heard the cashier say Bergen was three cents short. And then I heard her give my son, my son who was politely talking to a stranger, the missing three cents. “Thank you ma’am,” I heard his little man voice say.

I kept my eyes directed to our grocery bags and waited for Bergen to walk out of the store at my left elbow.

And then.

Then.

This boy. This boy of the wild lion mane-style head of blonde unruly hair.

This boy reaches behind his back and pulls out a tiny potted plant. A tiny plant with extravagant orange flowers.

And his arm is outstretched to me.

“For you, Momma.”

This gift. This pretty little plant chosen for me by my boy. Paid for by my boy with his own hard-earned money. Held out to me in a slightly grubby hand with so much love and affection that I thought my heart would explode right there on the sidewalk in front of the grocery store.

How in the world can I be responsible for the upbringing of such a little man?

How can I be worthy of wrangling his heart and his mind and his spirit?

How can anyone be worthy of such simple and pure affection?

There’s no answer for these questions.

It’s all gift.

All absolute gift.

Heavy and incredible and so divinely perfect.