Let's Have Some Chocolate
Let’s have some chocolate, he says.
His eyes are big, brown, searching, they capture my soul and hold it hostage.
He is four.
He means my chocolate.
He had already eaten his.
I am glad to share.
I love him.
He gobbles it down hard, his big brown’s searching my face, expecting me to reach some of it back.
I smile reassuringly, stop eating, hand him the last piece I had saved for myself.
He reaches for it, fingers smeared with chocolate.
Face happy.
I smile.
Suddenly an epiphany.
Now I know why his mother at eight handed her money to strange children
At arcades, preferring to watch them play, rather than to play herself.
There is so much more in giving
Than in being given.
I revel in his young delight as his chocolate-y teeth grin at me. He has chocolate on his cheek.
I realize I love himself even more now, as I grin back at him.
He has taught me a lesson I should have learned years ago.
Grandsons.
Nothing better.
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