This keen keen Love...

I miss him so much right now. He just sat on the bus and left for school. And what makes me miss him is all the things that happened before it.

He asked me to wake him up at 6:00 AM. I usually begin the routine at 7:00, giving him an hour to get set to go. But he's tired of rushing around and wanted more time and me off his back. So he said 6:00. I woke him up at 6:10. He came sulking downstairs, with the whiny voice on, saying he was tired. The irritation rose at that tone of voice and I kept it under check. He wanted me to brush his teeth and I did. And that was all the understanding that he needed. After that, he was off. Bathing, changing, grooming, all by his little and not so little self. He walked down at 7:30 looking like a million bucks. Save for the slightly tousled hair. But the best part of it was the smile and the cheer radiating from his face. He was ready for breakfast and the for-no-reason giggles and smiles unconsciously stole into my heart and made me smile too. I didn't realise it then. I feel it now, that he has left.

Sometime when he was dressing and I was upstairs changing the pillow covers, I looked over at him. He had his pants on and was looking into the collar of the shirt I had given him, searching patiently for the tag, so he would know which side should face front, before he pulled it over his neck. That did it for me. I melted and softened and just became this gushing stream of love. He was so patient. So patient. Meticulous. Thorough. Getting all the details right. Just like we'd taught him, in ways that have not been patient at all. He was grace in person at that moment when he was looking into that collar for that patch of cloth. And I was a mother hopelessly in love.

Just as he was pulling the shirt on, I stole up behind him and wrapped my arms gently around him. If I did it any more abruptly than that, it would have alarmed rather than surprised and that would tick him off and me in turn. We both have these quick buttons that should not be pressed. The effects can be brutally startling to those around. But my touch was right, for he was beaming and blushing when his head emerged from the turtleneck collar. We had a moment. Phew.

For some reason, it made me think of yesterday when he did something so darn sweet. We were at the nursing home, learning to make helping hand hearts for the Valentine's theme. When he poked me in the arm, and started signing. First to his eyes. Then to the heart doily on the table, and then to me. I love you. Another shy smile to follow it up. A a big one from that that threatened to leave my face if it got any wider. He's not a man of these big emotions very often, and I was pleasantly surprised. And thrilled for the thrill on his face.

Coming back to the breakfast table, he kept up some chatter. Of that I am sure. What he said, I am not. But it doesn't matter. Because I remember his voice and the chit-chat mood he was in, which means that all is right with the world. Its close to 8:00 and he wonders if he can play now that he has eaten. I redirect him to his coat and shoes instead. Its time to leave and maybe he can surprise Appa by being ready and waiting for him in the car?

What I said lightly to get him going, he took very seriously. In no time, I heard him going out to the garage to sit. 5 minutes later, I was there too with Thambi, belting him in. I walked over to the other side to belt the man, when I saw that he was already securely fastened. Stunned, I look up to see his eagerly smiling face. You put it on yourself???? I ask, still taken aback. A digression here....Winkie has some trouble fastening the seat belt into its latch. He has made many frustrated attempts, only to give it up completely and just have me do it. No amount of motivating would get him to give it a patient try. But today, without the pressure of my hovering, waiting presence, his trials took a calm turn and met with success. Another reason to wake him up at 6 in the morning. :)

He made my day with that simple act of thoughtfulness. And made me gloriously mushy by how small his frame looks as he walked lonesomely across the mounds of snow to the busstop. Pitted against all the other kids, who always seem bigger than him, that is the moment when I keenly feel everything that I feel for him. My love, my frustrations, our recent trials, the sweeter nothings and everything laced and tinged with the affection of parting. The fact that he leaves everyday at this set time in the morning, to lead his own life, apart from mine is so endearingly touching. That the only thing that makes it bearable is if I can spot his face in the window, as the bus rolls by. Even better, if he is looking out at the same time, to meet my eyes and give me a wave. When both these things happen, the ache in my heart ceases and makes the words for them...unstoppable.