55 minutes

55 minutes: not that I was counting or watching the clock but it was 55 minutes. It wasn’t non stop screaming: he would look at the mirror or see a semi pull into the farm and momentarily pause then suddenly remember, “I was screaming and throwing a fit!” Back at it he would go, red faced, stiffened back and kicking feet. Did I mention it was 55 minutes? His mommy went shopping. She left grandma in charge to feed and put him to sleep. One of us didn’t get the memo. As soon as mommy was out the door he began. If I forgot to mention, he kept in for 55 minutes. Didn’t want the bottle, didn’t want Grammy, didn’t want distractions, didn’t want to snuggle, and definitely didn’t have a sense that Grammy was adequate for the moment. Did I mention how long this went on? We paced. I paced and he screamed. Eventually he slowed to get his breath. He would whimper a bit, the eyes doing all they could to stay open enough to close again , take a big breath and scream. Then his eyes closed and he snuggled down asleep. One more whimper and then he was out! Did I fail to mention when I looked at the clock it had been 55 minutes?
Lord you must see me as that baby at times. You are all I need. You have what will supply my needs and you have me protected and I just throw a fit! A big fit! Some of my fits have lasted probably, well okay for sure they have been longer than 55 minutes! And yet you just hold me gently, whispering, singing, and walking with me, waiting for me to give in to what’s best for me. And as I sleep in your arms and all is quiet in my heart, I can hear you saying to me just as I found myself whispering to my grandson, “you are so beautiful!” But did I mention 55 minutes?