You Won’t Remember

You won’t remember

but I’ll never forget

when I greeted you with

a thousand hellos

and held you to my chest

grateful, relieved.

You won’t remember

but I’ll never forget

drawing you in close

in the darkest hours of each day.

Rocking you.

Streams of exhaustion

gratitude

doubt

anxiety

Unfathomable love

pouring down my face and

dripping onto yours.

I buried countless kisses

into the folds of your neck

and on your squishy cheeks.

I’d press my face to yours

and breathe in

you.

You won’t remember

but I’ll never forget

that one curl on top of your head,

your dimpled knuckles

and flat, doughy feet.

How I’d scoop you up

every time our song came on

and we would dance.

Then when you grew and you heard

that familiar tune and

abandon everything for “up mama!”

I will never forget.

I’ll never forget

those warm, sticky days

sitting in the shade and your tiny pool.

Or how you loved peaches.

Or how you would slide down the stairs.

Waiting for your daddy by the pond

Full of fuzzy ducklings.

O, sweet child…

You’ll never remember,

the way you would play with my rings for comfort each day, each night.

Or how we would snuggle each night, cozy in your little bed

You won’t.

Not in your mind.

But, I hope,

You’ll feel a tug at your soul

When I hold you close or when you hear

those few notes.

I hope what are memories for me,

vivid and etched into my heart,

are for you

deep roots of

familiarity, grounding you to

the absolute assurance that

You are loved.