I Love Holding Your Hand Mama

‘Sawyer, hold onto your brother on the dock.’

I was climbing out of the boat, holding a baby, a pop and two bags.

Sawyer and Cooper were out long before me and were headed towards our truck. Which, in most cases wouldn’t be a big deal. But in our world, it is.

We have to be very, very careful.

Cooper, our son with autism, is a runner. He bolts, he drops, he flops, he runs, and he sits. And rarely does he walk in a straight line.

He also typically has no understanding of safety. And he loves water.

A third baby has made my intense parenting harder. But we still manage.

And thankfully, I have Sawyer.

He is six. And he is amazingly helpful.

I yelled again as they drifted just out of my eyesight. Up the dock and around the corner.

Two brothers. One six and one eight. The younger one holding tightly onto the older one.

I could almost make out what he was saying…’Cooper, mama’s coming.’

I could hear him using his Cooper voice. The one he learned from me. Calm. Stern. Positive.

I made it off of the boat, down the dock, up the stairs, to see Sawyer holding onto Cooper. Just like I asked.

I let the breath out I was holding.

I’m always a wreck. I know danger. I see it all.

We made our way to the bathroom. The four of us.

We had a pretty good walk.

I was holding onto Cooper with one hand. Well, sorta. He was wiggling away. But I will also add, something clicked in the last 6 months and his understanding of safety has skyrocketed.

My other arm was still holding the baby. The bathroom key was wedged under my chin.

Sawyer was walking along talking about boats and trees.

Once inside the pavilion I asked Sawyer to hold onto the baby while I helped Cooper go potty.

Which he did. Perfectly.

On the way out, I checked for cars, and people, and danger.

It seemed safe. So, I let Cooper walk ahead of us. He was still wearing his life jacket. He has been all day actually. Long before we left for the boat.

He walked, side to side, twirled, pointed, danced and laughed. Apparently happy with his new found freedom.

In an instant, my hand was cupped by Sawyer’s little hand.

I smiled down at him, and quickly thanked him for helping me out.

He smiled back and said, ‘I love holding your hand mama.  I love when it’s finally my turn.’

Instantly tears welled in my eyes.

Honestly, I couldn’t remember the last time he held my hand.

He’s an old six. Sometimes it feels like 16. Somedays like 80. He’s my old soul.

He’s too busy to hold onto mom’s hand.

And like I said, my hands hold onto Cooper and the baby. And someday in the future, probably just Cooper.

I have memories burned into my brain of carrying a screaming, flailing Cooper out of a store, a restaurant, or a park and yelling to a 2-year-old Sawyer to keep up.

‘Walk faster buddy.’

He would always toddle behind me. Those little chubby legs struggling to keep up. But I was in crisis mode. I was getting Cooper to safety.

I have so much guilt. I’ll be the first to admit that.

We walked slowly, Sawyer and I. I held the baby in my arms still.

Cooper chased a butterfly. Then peered into a puddle. And finally ran up to a sign and pointed to his favorite letters.

Sawyer never stopped talking.

He told me all about how starfish can grow new legs. He jumped over a puddle and said something about breaking mamas back if I step on a crack.

I don’t know what I would do without him.

I know as time goes on, he will probably help even more. He will become one of his brother’s people.

He will learn how to talk Cooper through a meltdown and help him in the bathroom.

I have no doubt.

He will grow up playing baseball, get a girlfriend, learn to drive and graduate.

And he will continue to be the best brother.

He will learn more kindness, patience, understanding and reality than most people learn in a lifetime.

He’ll grow up amazing.

I pray that he knows how much I treasure him. And that I love holding his hand too.

Somedays, like today, it’s all I want to do.

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