growing memories

today we held hands,
and breaths,
as we tip toed into clear,
frigid mountain water
I watched as you carefully
let go of my hand
and then charged knee deep
perpendicular to the current
I watched as you lost your footing
on the loose, silty creek bed
I reached out my hands to you,
but you did not reach for me
independent, and drenched,
you found your own way to the bank
of that frigid mountain stream
I made  note of your autonomy
and closed my fingers around
a gentle breeze

later, dry and eating sandwiches
I lay back on the scratchy grass
and closed my eyes
I felt you beside me
and knew it was the littlest
even though you made no sound
you put your shoulder to my shoulder
and your head to my head
I opened my eyes and turned
your two and a half,
almost three, eyes smiled into my
thirty-one, almost thirty-two, eyes
a toothy grin broke across your face
and your nose brushed mine
I made note of your dependence
and closed my arms around
all of you