a monolith

alternatively titled : a last summers walk

Summer had her last laugh today. The sunflowers heads drooped under her oppressive heat as we set off down the path.

Watching as his feet kick up in glee, pushing off and gliding down the hill. In short order my skin slick with sweat, the heavy weight of my hoops rhythmically swing against my neck as I pulled back on the stroller with all my weight to keep us from careening down the hill in a similarity joyous fashion. A vision of my whole family in front of me on our walk backlit by the setting sun and I am struck with an immense feeling of clarity on life in this pinpoint in time.

I am older and softer and happier now. I know we are young still, but in their gaze, I know we are as old as time itself. When I put on oldies in the kitchen and dance around in my underwear, they look at me as if I can teach them anything of the world. I know the words to the songs after all. And in a way I can.

As we age we become more imperfect in our children’s eyes but for now I know I am a standing stone, a monolith of their mothers love. Lean against me, my sweet boys. I’ll hold the weight of this world for you.