I've had a bit of a recess with this blog, not because I've been busy (which I have) or because I haven't had much to say (which I absolutely have), but because other forms of social media have gotten my attention. More fast paced, readily available at my fingertips, and Oliver has a way of interrupting most anything I do. It's fine; I'm not upset. I've had my years of major learning and processing. Now it's Oliver's turn to take in everything he sees. He really wants to learn everything. Before playing with new toys, he examines them. Almost as if to figure out their components and what makes them do what it is that they do. He fascinates me.
Tonight, we were putting together his train track on the rug in the front room, and when it was complete, I sat there and watched him do a bit of yoga over it (I think? He's strange). For some reason, I started thinking about my dad's funeral last November. Before they lowered his casket into the ground, his wife gave quite a speech, and the last quarter of that speech was directed toward me. For some reason, tonight, that popped into my head and before the first tear (of several) rolled down my cheek, Oliver stopped what he was doing, walked over to me and gave me a hug, resting his head on my shoulder. He then switched shoulders four or five more times. How did he know?
He is a master at consoling the heavy or broken-hearted.