Good for the soul

This weekend we hosted some Besties. Stacey and I have been friends for *cough* decades... plural.  Wow.  Her boy Jack, and my boy Logan fell in love this weekend and, hopefully, will follow in their Mommies footsteps of friendship.  I decided this morning that having a best friend with me, the kind that feels like a cozy old blanket that you have had forever, is good for the soul.  for my soul.

Upon noticing this, I came to a realization that I need to slow down.  Not worry about the laundry, the cooking, the cleaning, the baking. just absorb.

So after a lunch with said Besties (SUSHI!), Logan and I headed out for some much needed Mommy-Logan time.  My poor kid could barely see anymore with his shaggy hair, so first stop was a haircut.  Logan takes after his pampering-loving Mama and highly enjoys every aspect of the hair salon... the shampooing... the chatter... looking and feeling awesome when you leave... my boy was soaking it up.

After some wandering, post-haircut, we found ourselves needing a little snack, so we decided on some ice cream, my treat. And not just any ice cream - Whitey's Ice Cream - and not just any Whitey's Ice Cream, but one scoop of Pumpkin and one scoop of Graham Central Station. Smoosh these together and you get a party in your mouth that tastes like pumpkin pie. hello Thanksgiving.

We took our one bowl and two spoons and found a bench near the ice rink to watch the ice skaters. Logan had about 348 questions, as usual, mostly about ice skating, but also about pumpkins, wheel chairs, cowboy boots, and spoons. Love the learning.

I was soaking in every ounce of my boy (and our ice cream) when this older Gentleman approached and said, "excuse me", and this is how the rest of the conversation went:

Me: "Yes?"
Man: "I just needed to stop and tell you how wonderful it is to see you sharing a bowl of ice cream so quietly and sweetly with your son".
Me: "Awwww, thank you!"
Man: "I had to say something because one of the best memories I have of my mother is sitting on a bench with her, sharing a cup of ice cream. It really touched me to see you doing this, and you need to know that these are the times that matter and the things he is going to remember forever."

His eyes started to fill with tears, as did mine, and I thanked him once again for stopping, and I really think that it meant as much to him as it did to me.

I wept on the car ride home. I wept with sadness for this nice man who clearly is missing his mom.  I wept with complete overwhelming feeling about how I love my boys with every cell of who I am that I feel that I could crumble to pieces.  I wept because my boys are growing, and will grow up, and I wish hope pray that they will be kind, grown men who will have tender memories.

So, breathe.