My happy place

I have this special friend. His name is Zachary. He is four years old. I massaged his Mom during her whole pregnancy, he missed his due date, my birthday, by 5 days. He didn't really talk until he was 3 but only because his genetics are wired in a way that allows him to over think the very syllables of a word (and probably the mathematics of it in chaos theory) not due to any lack of smarts. His Grandfather is a famous surgeon but he cant work a VCR to save his life. Without words, just those big brown orbs to rely on for communication; we have a lifelong bond. The first time he twirled my hair up in his fingers while laying on my lap and said "I love you Saneffany" out of the blue, was the day I labeled it "my happy place". That's where this brain goes when I'm sad and need solace.

I stopped going over to Zachary's house about 9 months ago. His Dad was behaving poorly and my psychic self knew it. It made it strained to be in the house. I couldn't connect with his Mom at all because she was trying to survive her own intuition. I was trying to build a life here in LA and it continues to take so much work, on all levels. Zachary got set aside in a way I never intended. That boy and I, that's love capital L. I talked to him on the phone today because his uncle is getting married and I will be there this weekend for the reception in Napa. He said "Auntie Stef, it's been a rully long time". I said, "I know and I am sorry, we will have so much fun together this weekend and I love you". " I love you too".

Oh my. How do people have kids and still remain solid mass? I swear I would break into a million atoms if I loved anyone more.