[We were living in Bensalem when I wrote this. Working at another job that was a poor fit for who I was.]

Sitting here, listening to you snore softly in your bed.

I forget all of the things that made today hard for me:

Gone is the voice of my boss in my ears;

Gone is the phone ringing endlessly;

Gone are the worries about how I’ll ever be able to hang on;

Gone is the fear that I’m not enough.

In this moment, there is only you.

Your quiet breathing bringing tears into my eyes.

I sometimes fear that I can never be enough, do enough, earn enough;

But that anxious wondering is strangely absent when I sit here,

Rocking

Listening

Smiling in the dark.

Will you ever realize how much I love you, my son?

Can you ever know deep in your heart how much you mean to me?

I think you can, but it will not be until years from now.

You will sit in the dark.

You will listen to the breathing of your own child sleeping.

You will rock to the rhythm of the sound of peace and contentment.

And you will know then what I know now:

My life would be meaningless without you.