A Kiss For Tomorrow

“Come here and see this.” Ken whispered to me from Beth’s (almost 3) room.  I had already settled into bed with my covers pulled tight around my chin; but it sounded important.  So I crawled out of my blankets and tip toed into the room next to ours.

Ken smiled and then turned his head toward Beth’s bed.  My baby was lying on her back with her arms spread wide.  A dozen stuffed bunnies and kittens surrounded her.  Her eyes were closed and I noticed a hint of rose on her plump cheeks.  I could hear soft snores drifting past her lips. She was smiling in her sleep.

“Who does she look like?” Ken asked.

“She looks exactly like Eric when he was three.” I sighed.  I recalled the days when Eric (almost 8 now) slept in the same room, in the same bed.  It seemed so long ago.

Next week birthday bonanza begins at our house.  In less than ten days, we will celebrate three birthdays.  It starts with Emily turning five a few nights before Halloween.  On All Saints Day, Beth turns three.  A few days later, Eric celebrates his eighth.

Time just keeps on ticking.  Before I know it, the kids won’t be kids.  They’ll be all grown up.  And all grown out.  And the most important thing I’ll have left is the memories we have created together. Memories of giggles.  Memories of let's pretend.  Memories of babies who are not babies anymore.

Each day before I go to bed, I try to paint a picture in my head of how my children look, act, sound and feel.  I hold it close in my heart, a treasure to save for a later day.

Each morning when I wake up, I hug my darlings as they get out of bed.  “Time to wake up, Sunshine.”  I sing to Emily.  She throws her arms around me and squeezes me tight.  “I love you Mommy.” She whispers in my ear.  " I love you Honey Bee."  I whisper back. 

When I walk into Eric’s room, my heart skips for a second when I can’t find him.  Then I notice a pile of blankets in the far corner of the bed.  I grab a corner and pull and, like a magician, I reveal the hidden secret beneath.  Eric opens one eye to peek at me.  “I’m tired.” He moans as he turns over and buries his head in his arms.  “Wake up sleepy head.” I smile.

For Beth, there is nothing to do.  She has been awake for hours, playing with her books in her room.  I pause at her door to watch her turn the pages.  When she senses me watching, she looks up and laughs.  “Read?” She pleads.  But I shake my head.  “It’s not reading time.  It’s time to get dressed.”  But somehow I find myself sitting on the floor with Beth in my lap and a book in my hands.  I kiss the top of her head.  "It's time to get dressed Jelly Bean." I tell her. 

Before heading down for breakfast I survey my troops.  They are dressed.  Their faces are washed. They are happy.  They start to march down the stairs ahead of me. 

A few steps from the bottom, Eric turns around and rushes back to the top where I am standing.  He wraps his arms around my waist.  I pick him up to hug; but with only a few weeks until he turns eight, he is getting to heavy to hold.

When I set him back on his feet, I touch his hair and say “Remember you promised that you would never stop hugging me.” Eric nods.  He hasn't forgotten the promise he made to me when he was four.  “I’ll always want to hug you, Mom.”  He says.

“Even when you’re fifteen?” I ask.

“Even then.” He agrees.

“Even when you’re thirty-five?” I say.

“Even then.” He replies.

“Even when you are a hundred and three?” I ask.

He frowns.  “Mom, you may not be here then.”

“Then I better give you some extra hugs today so you can save them for later.”

I grab Eric and squeeze him three times.  “Here is one for when you are fifteen.  Here is one for when you are thirty-five.  And here is one for when you are a hundred and three.”  Eric returns my hugs before bouncing downstairs for breakfast.

Ken and I stood in the doorway of Beth’s room for a few more minutes that night.  We watched the steady rhythm of Beth's chest as it rose and fell.  We wondered what dreams were making her smile in her sleep.  Finally, I tiptoed to her bed side and tucked her into her pink blankie.  Before I left, I leaned over, kissed her cheek and whispered.  “Here is one for when you are forty-four.”