I was going to write a post about body issues, and that sometimes I really, really dislike how my body functions. I may still write that post, but last night, after dinner, my body issues didn't matter.
Last night some pretty severe storms came through our area. Fortunately, where we live, we just got lots of rain and wind. The power flickered a couple times, we got the weather radio out to make sure that if a tornado suddenly resulted we would be prepared to head to the basement. But, after the storms passed, we asked Gus if he wanted to go outside. We got him in his rain boots and rain coat. Jon needed to change his clothes (to get out of his work clothes), so I headed outside with Gus.
I was still in my work clothes and leather sandals, and it was still lightly raining, so I stayed in the garage. Gus was hesitant to leave the garage, so I asked him if he wanted to go out and walk in the rain. He took a few tentative steps into the driveway, stood for a few moments and turned to look at me. I told him that when Daddy came outside they would go find some puddles. Gus saw a puddle across the alleyway at the end of our driveway and started to walk towards it. I stopped him, because I wasn't dressed to go with him and get wet. He turned his face to me, and I said, "You can go." He got the biggest smile on his face and went trotting down the driveway in his too big raincoat and clunky rubber rain boots. He ran straight to that puddle, walked in, and then stomped up and down with both feet with all his might.
I couldn't help but begin to cry. Here was my baby, who's not a baby anymore. He's a boy jumping in puddles. He's the image of stereotypical puddle jumping. And after that wave of "he's growing up too fast" was the wave of grief. There should be another child with him. Another little boy; his twin. And then came the wave of grief for Oscar and Bella, that there should be a pair of kids puddle jumping. One wearing blues/greens and the other wearing pinks/purples. Both of them having fun, together, in the rain.
Instead, it was just one little boy, my little Gus. Wearing his too big raincoat and his clunky rubber rain boots. My heart bursting with love for the four children I have, and breaking for the three I don't get to watch in the rain.