Not too long ago, my days were filled with our boys’ love of each other. Their love was not only abundantly overflowing but also on full display. This sweet, innocent, pure love that showed me what unconditional love looked like.
I treasured those early days of that pure love. It anchored our boys to each other. I just knew they would never be alone because they would always have each other.
Now they’re a typical pair of teen brothers, a gift in its own right. Each growing in their own way, seeking independence. Becoming self-reliant. At times annoying each other. Hanging out. Togetherness. Shared experiences. Travel, baseball games, dinners. And at the same time, making their own way.
Not-so-subtle shifts. Signals that life-as-we-know-it has a shelf life.
Which makes me think back to those baby days when their outright expressions of love flowed freely. I remember watching them at the kitchen table, bathed in the morning sunlight. I felt warm and fuzzy and like everything was going to be alright. That they would always have each other.
Things change. Expressions of love change too. Grows in new ways. Like on this trip.
Slippery Rock is where you scoot and then slide down this flat rock with run-off from the mountain until you’re dumped into ice cold water that was over Ian’s head. Joey comes down first, turns around and waits. I’m standing off on the sidelines, where I find myself more and more nowadays as our boys grow and figure things out. Then Ian comes down, plunges into the water, pops up and there’s Joey. Telling Ian to grab onto his back as he gets them both to safe ground. Unconditional love if I’ve ever seen it.
And in that moment, I felt warm and fuzzy and like everything was going to be alright.
They will always have each other.
