You are eighteen months old and its been a busy month. So busy in fact, that I only now had a chance to sit down and write this letter to you which is one of my favorite things to do; reflecting on your month and how quickly you are transforming-- faster than I can blink.
usual bus/Bart hopping to all the sights and sounds of the city because with a
Baraka and her sweet family, who were kind enough to even let us tag along with them on Eid when your Abu was in conferences all day, and really, San Francisco this time around was about enjoying the pleasure of their company. And my did you take to your Khala. You bounced around the room squealing and grinning at her the moment you laid eyes on her. Nur is drawn to Nur I suppose. Anytime I spend with your Khala is special but this time, if you can believe it, it was even more special. Her son is exactly two months older than you and seeing you both together? I've said it before but I'll say it again, despite the few false starts, seeing you and beautiful 'Bean' together, sipping tea, conversing and cackling with delight, and at one point, even reading a book together [ofcourse at the end of the trip, its always towards the end] it's watching a miracle in action and all I can think is: Which of His blessings can I deny?[And how badly I want to move to the city of my heart].
On the way home, as we waited on the airport-train to take us to our baggage, I looked up to see a woman smiling nostalgically at you. I have a little boy, she said when our eyes met. Well, he's seventeen now but I remember that age. We chatted about travel with a youngster and she warned me be careful, when they travel a lot as children they'll be gunning to travel all over the world without you when they're older. I shook my head and grinned No, not him, he's never going to want to travel without us by his side. To which the entire bus full of people burst into hearty laughter.
Ouch. And, yes. I know this. I know you will not always cling to me and gamely go wherever we take you. I know each day, each letter I write, takes you one month away from this beautiful connection I share with you-- I am no fool. I know you will grow up. But instead of looking forward, I'm looking at today and living in this moment-- something I could never do until I met you. While you might go paragliding across South America solo one day, for now, thank you for being you; the centering-slowing-pausing-reflecting-mostbeautiful part of our day.