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Heart Smiles

I had planned on writing about my race last week.  It’s been rolling around my head for a few days, particularly after a somewhat-failed short run this morning. But as I sat down at the computer, I heard E-man begin to sing. So race blog will have to wait. Because when he sings, I stop what I’m doing and listen.

He’s always loved music. Part of our bedtime routine from his earliest days included reading and music. He would fall asleep to his aquarium after I sang and read to him. Once he started talking, he would ask for specific songs in the car (anyone else’s toddler request “Sexy Back” and then sing it – kid-style- at the top of his lungs?). A few years ago, music almost disappeared from his life. He would ask the radio be turned down. He stopped singing completely. He still typically won’t sing if he knows we’re paying attention. And forget getting him to sing at school or church. He normally sits there with his headphones on, or his hands slapped over his ears. So when he does sing, I just take a breath. My heart smiles.

My baby is in there. He is still that beautiful baby who was my “healing baby.” That little boy who used to sing along on lullabies once he could is in that brilliant head of his. We don’t get to see that part of him very often. But I know he’s there. When E sings, I can briefly forget all the garbage, all the sadness, all the darkness and storms, and just revel in the awesome that is E.

He’s singing, and I’m smiling. That’s way more important than anything I could write about a race I ran 9 nine days ago.

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