Time in a Bottle

I was sitting in my very large, old, creaky wooden rocking chair. It fits me well, but the more industrious the rock, the louder the creak.  Eli and I had just come in from our car ride, a ride just not quite long enough to put him thoroughly into the land of nod.  I had watched him briefly wiggle and squirm, much more like one of the worms than of the ducky he resembled in his soft yellow jammies with the golden webbed feet.  He stretched once more and I lifted him up in my arms, looked 'round and decided the dishes could wait yet again, while the two of us took a break.  So I settled in my old chair, old in style as well as wear and rocked as gently as I could to prevent or at least to muffle the racket the old chair made as it moved back and forth.

The little wiggly body softened as we moved, then relaxed.  A little pudgy hand released it's fist on the upper arm of my sweatshirt.  Eli's soft downy head held in my hand slowly sunk onto my shoulder until I was no longer supporting it with my hand, instead it was supporting me with it's warmth.  We rocked 'til the chair began to sing, so I slowed and the chair quieted. The little worm in Eli began to emerge, so I rocked a little faster and the chair sang louder. Baby ducky once again laid his head upon my shoulder... until I could no longer hear the little baby sounds, only the melody of the old rocking chair.

As I sat rocking, the creaky chair carrying me off with it's lullaby, my mind wandered off and I began to wonder at the absolute peace of a baby.  A deep rush of emotion came over me and a vow I have made to many babies before became a promise to Eli as well; To the best of my ability baby grandson of mine, I will always be here for you. I promise.