My Isaac

I sit on the couch, a pillow tucked under my arm so that I'm leaning towards the middle cushion.

He's behind the recliner, digging in the toy basket for some little action figure he can't find.
Will you come sit beside me when you find your toy? I call to him.
Okay, he drags out, his reply soft, full of mischief, like maybe he wont sit beside me after all.

But he does, and for a minute I am happy. For a moment I'm content sitting beside my only son and being close to him.

Did you find your toy? I ask.
I found wings. He answers, holding them out for me to see, his eyes fixed on the TV. The Fantastic 4 has just come on. A favorite of his.
Were you looking for wings?
No, I wanted to find my Human Torch but I just found wings.
They are pretty, I tell him, curious as to why the Human Torch is so easily replaced by plastic, fairy wings.
Hey. I call to him softly, wanting his pretty brown eyes to look at me.
He does look at me and smiles. It's a soft smile, his lips still closed but tilted tightly up at the corners. A smile that says I'm pretty happy right now and not sure why mom is bugging me. But a beautiful smile nonetheless.

I don't have to say another word and he's leaning his cheek towards me for a kiss.
I kiss his cold cheek and run my fingers over the short hair at the back of his head.
You're a good boy, I tell him, meaning every word of it, knowing that at times he doesn't feel like a good boy. At times, he struggles to be a part of the activity around him.
I love you momma, he seems to sing.
I love you too, will you kiss my cheek now?
And he does, and for a moment, I'm lost in the sweet boy smell of him and the sweep of his sweet little boy lips quickly brushing against my cheek. And for a moment, he's the only guy in my life that has stolen all of my heart.