Swept Away

Today I was sweeping. And I saw this little mismatched pair of shoes lying there.

A boot and a flip flop.

And the memory of why they were there came flooding back.

An attempt by my little boy to come with his mama. I was leaving to do something he could not accompany me for, and I was rushed.
I hurriedly told him mama had to go by herself.

He ran to find his shoes, quickly because he knew I was leaving.

And that was what he came with, a boot and a flip flop.

And as I swept them aside today tears of realization came.

I had swept this aside yesterday. In my hurry I had swept him aside. I had hurried past the moment of a sweet chuckle shared together at the sweetness of this winter boot summer flip flop pair overflowing with its message of budding independence and love for his time with mama.

"I come" he had said in his angel voice.
These are the moments I so don't want to walk past, my head heavy with the haze of hurriedness and have-tos.

I want to take just a minute to hold on, to feel, to taste the fruits of life and meaning hanging ripe from each moment, waiting for me to slow down long enough to pick them.

I don't want them to be swept aside.
I want to be swept away.