Holding On.

“Hold me!”

I brush him off. He is too old.

“Hold me. Please? Mommy”

“Why?” I ask

He sees his baby sister being held.

Does he seek the same attention?

Maybe he craves the touch.

“Mommy, will you please hold me?”

I waiver.  I make a choice.

I make the choice to hold him.

To draw him into my arms and cherish him.

I hear it goes so fast.

One day he will stop asking. 

I hold, love, hug, kiss, snuggle until he laughs and giggles.

I dread the fade. I chose to embrace.

“Hold me, Mommy!”

I say “yes”!

“He is before all things, and in him all things hold together” Colossians 1:17

Take five minutes and write with wild abandon. No worrying, no editing yourself, no wondering if you could have done it better. Just simply write. Link up with Gypsy Mama.