When my brother was a baby, our mom would often sing him to sleep listening to Kenny Loggins' album Return to Pooh Corner, bouncing him around our living room wrapped in a soft blue satin-trimmed blanket, almost dancing to the music. I remember the pitch of her voice as she sang, and can see her swaying to this song and whispering these words to her sweet little boy.
"Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection... the lovers, the dreamers and me."
My heart swells and I cry a bit when I consider the all encompassing adoration my mother must have felt then, so in love with her new child, warm and peaceful in her arms. He was so tender and kind with her. One of my favorite memories is of him, less than two-years-old, toddling over to her as she lay on the couch, with a brush to run through her hair. His method was primitive, but the care he took with her, the gentleness of his touch, was remarkable in the total devotion and love he clearly felt for her.
I think of Tommy, and I can't help but compare these images to the love I feel for this life growing inside me. Already so strong, so truly wonderful... I think my heart might explode when he is born. In that really gooey, melty, overflowing and unconditional way - so full of awe and pain and deep infatuation for this tiny person that has been a part of you as long as you have lived.
"Who said that wishes would be heard and answered when wished on the morning star?
Someone thought of that, and someone believed it. Look what it's done so far."
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