A Smile Held Captive

Carter, where was your smile? 

Watching home movies of you and Danny this weekend, I watched with new and different eyes.  I was completely present in the movies - doing all the filming - trying to capture your sweetness and your gorgeous eyes and chubby little toes and kissable little cheeks.  I wanted to bottle or save you in a time capsule to savor you and Danny as you were then...forever.  But watching, I am floored by the naivete, the lack of understanding that woman behind the camera had.  She didn't know.  Maybe she did.  But oh my!  She had so much to learn!

I watched and looked at you and listened to you on the screen.  You were gorgeous and happy.  Right?  Weren't you?  Happy, I mean.  Like, how can you tell?  I thought you were happy.  You were loved and adored and you were thriving.  Right?  I was there.  I was with you.  Loving you.  Hugging you.  Squeezing you.  You were happy, right?

You never smiled.  Fast forward.  Find a smile.  Sure, there's got to be a smile.  Well, no.  Rewind.  C'mon.  Just a simple grin.  Seriously?  You just never smiled.  You seemed content and so very, very busy.  But there was no simple expression of happiness.  Let's fast forward again.  No.  No smiles.  No look at mommy with "the look" a mommy gets from her baby.  Climbing and crawling, yes.  But, no reaching for me for a hug or a squeeze.  No.  it just wasn't there.  Busy.  Busy.  Busy.  But, something was missing.  Something big.

And I know that I knew something wasn't quite right.  I knew.  When I watch, I can remember a sense inside my body - deep, deep, "denially" deep down.  Something wasn't quite right.  As I watched, I was captivated and moved and I kept wanting to reach into the tv and hold you and tell you that I was going to figure you out.  It was all going to be OK.  Because it is.  But I'm haunted with thoughts of you and I back then and how we were both in the dark and how we both needed so so much.  So much to learn and do and practice and experience.  Damn, it's been hard, but you are so different now.   And it's all been sooooooooo worth it.  But I can't help but be sad for you and for me.  We missed out on some stuff because we had to go searching for that smile.  Maybe I should shift the sadness to hopefulness and gratitude.  You and I have learned the value of a smile, and how it doesn't come easy for some, and how it means more from someone who's learned to work at it.

FFW to today.  January, 2011.  You smile so often.  You smile when I wake you (sometimes).  You smile over the simplest of life's pleasures.  You frequently smile and giggle in your sleep.  There's so much that makes you smile.  But mostly, you smile at me and for me and about me and with me.  I am so grateful that we found your smile my precious boy.  It is a beautiful smile.  It was just being held captive, maybe fermenting like a fine wine.  And oh, how fine it is. 

I shall never take that smile for granted ever again.