Wordless

It won't be long before Sam says real words, besides repeating syllables like "ma-ma" and "da-da." Real words like "I'm hungry," "I'm tired" and "I love you." I hope I won't easily forget, in the flood of new words, the quiet times where his sweet baby touch and expressions said everything.

I come from a family that is never shy of communication, I've never understood how people could come together and not communicate, just sit and be, I still don't. Don't get me wrong, I'm not talking about words, I'm talking about the wordless moments, the sparks that are flying when the world is quiet. When nothing and everything is being said in silence. These moments are often, I'm learning, the best.

Communication is so intimate, warm and vital, like chocolate, I crave it, I think we all do.Babies start to communicate before they ever make a sound, they have to, and though subtle, I've learned to listen, watch and feel.

Late one night we sat in the small rocking chair in Sam's room. He woke up afraid or lonely or just startled from a dream, so I sat with him, blinking and blinking trying to not rock myself to sleep instead of the wide-eyed baby in my arms. Sam often rubs his satin bordered blanket on his cheek to sooth himself to sleep. A moment later I felt a cool satin corner of his blanket rubbing back and forth on my cheek while he lay wide awake staring at me in the dark.