Simple and Profound

My children offer me many simple yet profound moments.  Last night I sang for church and during the homily I sat next to Jordan.  He whispered to me with a big grin, “Great singing, Mom”.  This compliment coming from my little boy, who isn’t even three years old yet, was the highlight of my day.  After mass, Maddi shared her dimpled smile with me in addition to many others.  Her joy is completely evident in her every move.  I love to watch her.

When we got home from church Jordan asked me if we could play a game.  He has a bowling set of plastic pins and balls that he wanted me to set up; most likely as a strategy to prolong bedtime.  He was pleased to take turns knocking down the pins.  When it was my turn he directed, “Mommy, go stand over there in the other outfield.”  I chuckled and vowed that our next lesson would be sport vocabulary. 

Jordan is an articulate child with many questions and thoughtful phrases running through his mind.  He asked me the other day while driving home, “Mommy, what did daddy die about?”   I froze with no good response.  Was I to answer him with how Shawn died or with the cause for which his father gave his life?  I answered both.  “Jordan, your daddy was hit by a car.  He died to save many people.  He did an amazing thing, Jordan.”  This conversation took place coincidentally as we passed by the accident site on highway 35W.  My throat held the lump in it until I could force myself to swallow.  How can death be explained to a toddler?  It feels so out of place for an afternoon car ride.

Jordan speaks of his dad daily.  This morning he was writing a letter to his daddy and asked me if we could go to daddy’s park.  His newest challenge, when we are with other kids, seems to be sorting out when they make references to their “mom and dad”.  Jordan will ask me using the nickname he created for me, “Momia, who is our ‘mom and dad?’”  Or if he is playing in a nursery with other children he will ask me if “our mom and dad” can pick him up. 

Why do I write this all down?  I write about my kids because I want to capture the essence of who they are and learn from their innocent philosophies of life.  I want to live with their same generosity to compliment, their same joy to share, and their same curiosity filled with compassion and respect for something they cannot even begin to comprehend. 

I find my truest definition for the meaning of life filled with the wonderfully simple and most profound moments revealed through time spent with the hearts of my little ones.

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