Stalker

His hair hung over his brow line, sweeping softly in waves just above his blue eyes a little grey today against the light colored shirt he wore. He was intent on his reading and didn't see her from where she stood.

She startled as he shifted in his seat, adjusting to better accommodate the light. She could ill afford him catching her again. She blew the steam across her coffee cup and sipped quietly. Taking her eyes off of him seemed impossible, yet she knew the more she stared the more likely he was to catch her. That feeling of being watched is a powerful one she knew from first hand experience. Many times he'd awakened her by simply standing at her bedside... It never failed to amaze her how he could simply stand there, not wanting to startle her, remaining silent and yet willing her to open her eyes. He had a power over her, whether he was aware of it or not.

So much of their time together has been like this. Her standing back, watching as he worked the room. He is confident, striding forth with smiles and talking even when he was very much out of his league. He was never at a loss for words and could engage perfect strangers with his banter. He was brave. She admired his bravery and yet there was a part of him that she felt needed to be sheltered. He didn't want her to keep that role of hers alive any more... He had made that plain. She just couldn't help it, he was such a part of her.

The distance that had grown between them was a chasm of painful separations, incremental and yet definitive. It hadn't always been this way, her standing afar peeking at him like a stalker in disguise. He had craved her company, even sought it out. She had been the one and only woman in his life for so many years, it was no wonder she couldn't just let it go. She couldn't simply walk away from him, it was an impossible situation.

Her coffee was almost gone now and he was shifting in his seat once more. He stretched his arms above his head, lacing fingers together and yawning widely. He closed those brilliantly beautiful eyes tight against the strain of his muscles. She watched as those hands, hands that once sought hers out in comfort and undying devotion, closed the book in his lap. He was searching the room and she knew she was in trouble.

Their eyes locked for a moment. She turned to pour another cup of coffee, hoping desperately that he hadn't seen her watching. It would be hard to explain her stare... She felt him before he said anything. He was directly behind her...

"Morning, Mom," his voice was deeper now. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and clasped his hands together with strength that still startled her. Gone were the hands of his youth, chubby with baby-ness and slightly sticky. They had been replaced with the hands of a burgeoning young man. Her heart almost burst with the pain of it as she bent her head and kissed them with a pat. 

Her little boy was gone and in his place stood the man he would soon become. It was a terrible thing to behold and one that none could have prepared her for. When children become less of who we are and more of who God means them to be it is overwhelming and painful. She knew he would leave her all too soon for the conquest of worlds outside her sheltered enclave. He was already straining at the tethers.

"Good Morning, son..." And he was gone, off to pursue his day. She shook off the tears that threatened to flow. It was time to get on with it....

***

Hopefully you enjoyed that. These are some of the things that I plan on entertaining here... Stretching my writing, showing some different venues and still talking about God's influence in my life. I want to share perspectives on rural living, write about what touches me, and hone my skills as both an inspirational non-fiction writer as well as delve into some fictional stories. I hope you will join me here and share things you find entertaining with others you love. 

Have a wonderful day and God bless!

Stacey