I live a holding hands life

That would be me.

A holding hands kind of gal.

In fact, my life is a holding hands type of life.  I've learned about the importance of family and friends and faith.  And those truths go hand in hand (get it) with holding hands.  Sharing your heart with others, and being willing to give your heart, your time, your attention, your love to those dear to you.  It's connecting -- in good, bad, happy, joyful, sorrow, fear, and "I just need you" times.

Like last night.


My awesome (and very sweet) five year old Caleb woke in the middle of the night with a bad dream.  He cried for me, and I came immediately.  After using the bathroom (which is what really woke him) he told me he had a bad dream.  Then in the next breath he said -

I need you to say some prayers for me, momma.

I brought him back to his room and said those prayers with him.  But I didn't leave.  My tired body wanted to slip back into my warm bed and try to find some elusive sleep before Samuel woke. But my momma's heart knew I was to stay there.  With him.

So I pushed away bits of Legos, and Playmobil, and army men, and books.  As I was quietly dropping them into boxes -- unsorted -- my little Caleb told me he was sorry for the mess.  I didn't care.  I grabbed a Thomas the Train blanket and a Spiderman pillow and laid on the floor next to his bed.

Momma, will you hold my hand, please?

As I grasped his hand -- which still fits inside mine -- he started telling me how much he loved our family.  He thought of everyone's names and then even added his good friend whose name happens to be Caleb.  His hand was sweaty and he'd squeeze mine.  After a bit I could feel his body relaxing.  Calming down.

Momma thanks for holding my hand.

Words worth the hard floor, the lego guy under my back that I missed, the aching arm, and no sleep.  We're just a holding hands kind of family.  I've seen it.

I stayed there half-asleep and half-awake until I heard little Samuel's cries.  As I stood to leave, I gently pulled my hand from Calebs and started walking out of the room tiptoing over all the lincoln logs and books that I shoved to the side.  Quietly I moved away.

Momma I love you.

Makes holding hands in the middle of the night so worth it.