The Game

It started with a simple “tap, tap” on the sunroof of his stroller. He was getting restless. I thought the distraction might keep him entertained.

Our son Devin looked up and laughed, surprised to see me up there, looking through the makeshift window.

He wiggled in his seat then reached his arm up high, high, his fingers touching the wrinkly plastic, reaching for mine on the other side.

I pushed the roof back out of the way and, reaching down, grabbed his hand with a silly sound. He screeched with delight and surprise. We played the game again and again.

Then suddenly, he brought my hand down into his lap and became perfectly still, wrapping his small fingers around mine peacefully.

It reminded me of when he was a newborn and would cling onto a finger with his entire fist. There was something so intimate, so miraculous about that simple movement. It was as if he had forgotten it was me back there, pushing the stroller and now that he’d found me wasn’t going to let go.

We walked this way for a bit, holding hands. Then suddenly, not quite satisfied, he wiggled in his seat again. Reaching his hand up, up, up, his fingers found my other hand, the one pushing the stroller and wrapped around tight.

Thinking it was just a passing touch, a fleeting idea, I let him pull it down closer to him, now pushing the stroller with my belly.

It wasn’t a passing idea. It was a sure thing—a focused request. Let’s have some togetherness time, Mom. His two hands held mine as tenderly as could be. With this simple choice, I felt my heart swell beyond where I think it’s ever gone before.

Miraculous moment became mile as we walked like this, him holding both of my hands sweetly, peacefully, silently, happily. And I, hands occupied with more important things, pushed the stroller using only the weight of my body and cherished every single, labored step.

Devin reminds me again and again how simple true happiness is.