I often talk to Benjamin. Out loud. When I think no one is watching.
I talk to him from a place of abundance and joy with my neck craned back, my eyes dazzled by the millions of stars floating over the darkened ocean. I talk to him from a place of peace as I gaze out at waves and sunshine and laughter. I talk to him from a place of fear, when my body is tight, my heart pounding, my trust momentarily shot.
I tell him I love him. I ask him to watch over his big sister. And because I believe that wherever he is, his vision is greater than mine, I ask him to help me remember to put one foot in front of the other and trust that the ground will be there.
At times it’s reassuring to have an angel for a son.