a bath

Watching my Mom give my son a bath, I realize that life is a series of Realizing things too Late. Years from now, I’ll be giving my son’s baby a bath, and I’ll start to cry. And he’ll say, Mom, why’re you crying? And I’ll say, because I used to bath you, just like this, and I love you so much. And he’ll say, I know. And I’ll say, no, you don’t know. You don’t know how much I love you. You’ll never know. And I won’t say this, but I’ll know that by the time he truly knows how much I love him, how much I loved him, I very well might be dead. But instead I’ll just wash his child’s hair, gently, like my Mother washed his, and mine.

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