The Morning Kiss
written by: Mary Beth Cox
Last night he put his feet in my lap
while actually watching TV with us.
Why does becoming fifteen
make you basically not want to be seen
around your parents?
We picked an action show
just for him, so he would stay.
I wrapped my hand around his foot and
he did not pull away.
He wriggled a bit and
I pulled his toes back, feeling
the ridges in his toe prints
and focused on his warm skin,
savoring this fleeting moment
as mother and son.
How many times did I hold both of his
tiny feet in one hand?
He and his dad will be gone for three days,
playing, dreaming, and living baseball.
I told him goodbye last night,
raising up on my toes
to give him a kiss, advising
him to do his best.
I will miss him so much.
This morning felt unfinished and
though I know he is growing
even taller while he dreams
under the X’s and O’s quilt
I made for him,
I bravely went into his room,
risking waking him up.
I still see the baby who
yanked on my mouth, my little boy.
The sunlight shone around
the blackout curtains.
I bent down and
transferred all my
protective energy
into a kiss on his cheek.
His skin is still mostly baby soft
but a bit rougher now.
Treat him kind, universe.
Keep him safe.
He is a good kid, everyone says,
and they say he looks like me.
Fair skin with a smattering
of freckles, hazel eyes,
chestnut hair
cut in a modern mullet,
like he wanted.
He’s making more decisions for himself
these days, different from ours.
“I’ll see you Sunday” I said
in the quietest voice I have,
“I love you,”
and he stirred slightly,
barely moving his head.
The blue quilt shifts around him
and equally as quiet
he says, “Ok.”
- The Morning Kiss - July 6, 2025
