Saturday, September 22, 2012

Butterfly kisses


Last night as the three--well four including our 18 week baby in the belly--of us sat on the couch, Sean mentioned butterfly kisses.  I hadn't thought to teach Dylan about butterfly and Eskimo kisses before and was surprised at how much he loved getting them.  "ESKIMO KISSES!!", I'd shout, and we'd rub noses as he laughed so hard he could barely catch his breath.  Dylan begged for more, "Gain?!  Bubderfy?!" and so we'd rub eyelashes and the laughter would start fresh as if he was feeling those eyelash kisses for the first time every time.

After a while I handed our cuddly boy over to Sean and the two of them continued giving kisses.

I want to remember this moment, I thought.  I almost reached for my phone to take a video of their laughter but the embrace seemed so intimate, so important, that I knew for sure a camera would ruin everything.

The lyrics to that cheesy Bob Carlisle song came to mind as I watched my boys hold each other in such a special embrace.  The song Butterfly Kisses is about a father feeling thankful that even as his daughter grows, she never seems to outgrow the love that they share and he recalls his favorite memory of giving her butterfly kisses.

Until recently, I barely spoke with my own father.  Songs about fathers and daughters always hurt my heart and made me long for a closer bond.  This song especially hit home for me because he did not get to see me grow up--or at least I didn't think so--and we were at such a bad place for so long that I didn't invite him to our wedding.  In fact, I wanted to avoid a wedding altogether.  I pretended that having my husband's father walk me down the aisle instead of my own was sufficient, and although I was thankful that my father-in-law loved me enough to be there for me my heart shattered in a million pieces with each step knowing that I hadn't given my father the chance.

I watched my husband and small son laugh together as they rubbed faces and knew that although Dylan would probably forget tonight on the couch as soon as his head touched his pillow, I will remember always.