Song for fish

You sat in the tub and glanced down at the fish you were singing to and I took in those eyelashes that are much too beautiful, too long, and too dark.  I took in your ten fingers and ten toes, your little finger nails shaped so perfectly, so entirely unlike mine.  The little muscles that are begining to form in your legs and your perfect round belly full of food and all I could think of was her, and does she know.

You looked up at me smiled and went back to your song for fish and I thought, the sound of you eagerly singing your song may be my favorite sound on earth.  I began to cry, this loss that is her's is gain for me and it's wonderful and horrible and beautiful and messy.  You were busy with your song so I allowed myself the thoughts, the pain, the tears.  She is missing all of this, all of it, and will she ever know that God created something beautiful in her body?

The only time she ever looked at your beautiful face was when it bore the evidence of something gone wrong, did she blame herself, does she still?  Oh, to find her and help her lay down her burden, to tell her who you really are.  How you charm people, how people meet you and are taken captive by the joy you carry around, handing out to those you pass.  That already I can't dream of who you will become, for the talents loom, an athlete, a lover of animals, a gentle spirit, a fixer, a helper.  You are a boy who is nothing gone wrong.

Will you find her someday and show her the boy God grew in her womb.  Will you find her and see what her eyelashes look like.  And look at her fingernails for me and see if there yours.  Tell her that when I look at the perfection in you I have always thought of her, her beauty and her pain.  I have always prayed that she would find healing, that she would find you.

My words are left unspoken, saved for a day you will better understand and I smile at your song for fish and begin to sing along, grateful for the beautiful mess.