I carry him.
I know it looks silly, his toes dangle past my knees. He’s getting tall and heavy, too. It sometimes hurts my back to lift his frame, but, I carry him.
It starts in the morning when waking up is hard. I should make him walk down the stairs, as it’s still something he is working on in physical therapy. But with his sleepy eyes and tired heart, he doesn’t want to start off his day with a task.
So, I carry him.
He works hard to get off the school bus. One hand on the rail and down three large steps with care. He takes my hand and can’t wait to go inside to play. But I make him go to the bathroom first. He doesn’t want to pause. I kneel down, give him a hug, and a reassuring word.
Then, I carry him.
