Another chapter from Becky’s blog, Mother of Junior (name saved in the system), is 11 years old.
New shoes. Long pants that reveal socks at the ends. A tight shirt suddenly seems to have changed its purpose and no longer allows for relaxed movement.
What is a miracle? What makes a daily event wonderful and wonderful? What would he call one tiny moment that changes his being? And the same wonder, where did it come from? What spark ignites in a sequence and sets the particular occurrence in the space of time and today?
My soul is cut off. Another light illuminates the present and me. The recognition of the wonder paints the moment in intense shades that will not be forgotten. I predict the miracle of growth. My child passes by busy in his affairs. He does not see the beam of light shining on him. This is just my secret. I get to see it grow. For one moment, I am aware of the cells that divide in his body, the growth of his hair, the lengthening of his nails, the development of new teeth. I am aware of its digestive activity, heartbeat, and glandular function. I can hear everything running like a vast, multi-winged factory. Pump pumps flow in pipes, motors growling in rolling thunder, and the sound of stretching and spreading in the background creaking. This plant is growing and intensifying, growing and taking up more and more space.
My child grew up right in front of my eyes. And I am all amazed, amazed, watching the magic where food, water, and air become body and soul. I do not understand how much growth is possible.
I count breaths. Listens to the digestive noises. Awareness! A conditional calculator sweetens my head and counts calories divided into carbohydrates, fats, proteins—super vitamins and minerals. Tick, tick, tick, counted dots fall into place like beads in a huge bill that never rests. Tic, another 100 calories, tic, fats, fats are good, tic, tic, tic, tic. Breathing, slow inhalation, have I heard tiny crackling noises in this inhalation? Where does the air go in? Right or left? Where does this noise come from? The right shoulder is raised slightly compared to the left. This may be a sign. Maybe entering the right lung is harder today?
A miracle of breathing and digestion.
Every moment is a miracle, but for some reason, I usually do not see the wonder, and rarely is it suddenly revealed to me in its fullness. For a second, and maybe even at least, it turns out to be all magic. And I, my soul detached from surprise, want to capture this moment and continue to remember that it is a great privilege to see man grow, be created, be created in every moment anew.
The miracle of growth, surprising, frightening, and prayerful. Just do not stop, do not go wrong, do not end suddenly.
