Salt for Striped Pajamas

My husband and I are musicians. And we’re parents. When we are onstage, we do our best to really be ON stage. But all our “backstage” experiences with our son (our little frog) deeply affect who we are as people, thus musicians. A recent insight: 

Whoa. Nigel is nearly a year old. I am starting to clean and "file" his little bitty clothes. As I fold tiny favorite pajamas and swaddling blankets, I am happy for Nigel, delighted that he is growing and moving on. (Now he pulls himself up to the SECOND row of spices!)

I am also filled with a mild melancholy for the newborn I held in the crook of my arm, that little baby I will never sleep beside again. And I am inexplicably morose about the idea of not having another child... another chance to experience all that tiny infant sweetness... even though I think a second kid for our travelling family would be tough, maybe just too much.

So I'm holding these little things for a few moments, and then I am moving on.

In her book "Peace and Plenty," Sarah Ban Breathnach wrote, "The angels knew what they were talking about when they told Lot's wife not to look back at the home she was leaving or she'd turn into a pillar of salt. This wasn't a Divine rebuke. The salt was from her tears because she couldn't let go."

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