Missing baby A

So many expressions of his flit through my mind in any idle moment…the frenzied movements and happy noise when he knows he’s about to go out; the sleepy monotone with the half-lidded eyes as he drifts to sleep on the swing; the determined playfulness as he would climb up on me to slap me around and wake me up in the morning; the false joviality and crinkling of eyes at certain words and expressions; the angry battering of hands when he’s denied the route he wants to go in; the puzzled-yet-determined look when a particular object of interest is refused to him; the intent exploration of usefulness of toys and cameras and cars on the street; the sheer glee when he witnessed his and our faces in the mirrors.

Unfortunately the bad times accompany the good ones. I don’t think I will ever, ever forget those moments in the hospital and his expressions that day, which moved from angry betrayal to pain to resignation. I don’t know which one hurt us more. I know we all died a little that day.

Now I can just imagine what he’s feeling. Dolly just told me that he’s been crying on and off for the past couple of days. There used to be a particular hanging pot that he was extremely fond of and I would (in my key responsibility as taxi driver) take him there to gaze up in wonder (even though he would be seeing it for the umpteenth time), watch him as he switched his glances between the pot, me and the revolving fan and sometimes even smile in glee, doing his enthusiastic “whoo, hoo” rumble. Now he doesn’t. Dolly takes him there, he looks at her, and then turns away. They try to keep him distracted and happy. He’s a baby after all, and he becomes ok in a few minutes.

So I thank god for this time I spent. There was stress, yes; and sadness too. But a lot of happiness as well. I am very very glad it worked out.

So life goes on. A month of love. Another few months of separation. He got introduced to this cycle too early. We are used to it.