23 APR 2023

Right now I’m sitting inside a tent at McLaren Falls Park. Outside, it’s completely dark. By the river, I can hear the sound of ducks flapping their wings in the water. Aviel is sleeping beside me.

It’s been dark since 7 p.m. I tried to persuade him to sleep early, but instead we kept talking and reading books until after ten. He rested his head on my shoulder, his small hand holding my big one. He seemed to have fallen asleep. He smelled sweet, like a baby—that soft, newborn scent. Quietly, I whispered, I love you, from top to toe. To my surprise, he replied in a small voice, I love you, from top to toe… and all..

It’s a line from a picture book we had just finished reading. He thought I was playing a game with him.

That moment felt so tender and sweet. It had been a long time since I’d shared such closeness with Aviel. Most of the time, he demands so much of me, and all I want is a moment to myself.

A child’s pure love for you seems to be directly proportional to how annoying they can be. As they grow older and become more independent, that kind of love—where you once were their entire world—slowly shrinks.

I miss every time I touched their softness as newborns. My life is going through a huge failure right now, but haven’t I also done something meaningful: being the mother of these small children?