I stroke his hair gently, and he sighs—a soft, content sound that tells me he’s okay again. That I’ve done something right.
After a few minutes, he murmurs, “Can we still go to the zoo later?”
I smile. “Of course we can. Sloths and giraffes, right?”
He nods sleepily. “And pancakes?”
“Definitely pancakes,” I say, hugging him just a little tighter. “With extra syrup.”
He doesn’t ask for much. Never has. But when he wants something, it’s with his whole heart. It makes me want to give him everything.
“Giraffes and sloths, huh?” I raise an eyebrow, pretending to think hard about it. “I guess we could do that. But you know what would be even more fun? Pancakes for breakfast.”
Cohen’s smile widens so fast, it’s like his whole face lights up. “Pancakes? With syrup?”
I laugh, flipping a pancake onto the griddle. “Of course, kiddo. Extra syrup, just the way you like it.”
He runs over to the table, climbs into his chair with all the enthusiasm he can muster, his legs swinging under the table. The sound of pancakes sizzling fills the air as I finish making the first batch.
As I set the plate down in front of him, he wastes no time. His fork dives into the stack of pancakes, syrup dripping down the sides. “Best breakfast ever, Mom.”
I sit down across from him, watching as he devours the pancakes. This makes it all worthwhile. The simple moments. The mornings where it’s just the two of us, sharing something as small as a plate of pancakes. It’s these moments that make the long nights, the hard days, feel less overwhelming.
“So, zoo today, huh?” I ask, trying to keep the conversation going while he’s busy eating. “Anything else you wanna do? We can make it a whole day of Cohen’s favorites.”
He looks up from his pancakes, his eyes sparkling. “We should also go to the park after, and maybe get ice cream! Can we do that? Oh, and maybe go to the trampoline place later?” His list of activities grows longer with each word, and I can’t help but laugh.
“Whoa, slow down there, buddy. I think we’ll need to pace ourselves. We’ll definitely go to the park, and I’m pretty sure ice cream is always a good idea. But we can’t do everything today. We might wear ourselves out.”
He pouts playfully but shrugs. “Okay, but can we make sure we have time for the sloths? And the giraffes?”
“Of course,” I say, chuckling. “We’ll get there.”
“Best day ever!” Cohen exclaims, digging into his pancakes. His enthusiasm is contagious, and I can’t help but laugh as I watch him practically inhale his breakfast.
After we eat, I help him into his favorite shirt. It’s faded from being washed so many times, but he swears it brings him luck. As I kneel to tie his sneakers, he rests his hand on my shoulder. It’s a quiet gesture that nearly undoes me.
Sometimes it’s the smallest touches that say the loudest things.
He doesn’t say anything, but I feel it. How safe he feels with me. How much he trusts that I’ll show up for him over and over again.
I start cleaning up the kitchen, my movements automatic, but my mind drifts back to what happened earlier. To Cole.
I push it aside. Today is about Cohen.
A few hours later, Cohen and I are in the car, headed to the zoo. The weather is perfect—bright but not too hot, with a breeze that makes the air feel just right. Cohen’s excitement is palpable, hislittle legs bouncing in the seat as he chimes in with all the animals he wants to see.
“Mom, do you think the lions will be awake?” he asks, his eyes wide with wonder.
“I don’t know, buddy. We’ll find out.” I glance over at him as I make a turn. “Are you sure you’re ready for all those sloths? They movesoslow.”
He giggles. “Yeah, but they’re awesome. And did you know sloths can sleep fortwenty hoursa day?”
I laugh, shaking my head. “Sounds like my kind of animal.”
“Twenty hours sounds like a dream,” I mutter, more to myself than to him, but he hears and laughs again. His laughter is so pure it makes the corners of my eyes sting. It’s the kind of laugh that makes you believe, just for a moment, that nothing is broken.
We walk hand in hand through the zoo gates. Cohen tugs at me like he’s trying to pull the entire world closer to him. Everything is magic to him. The ticket booth, the stroller racks, the maps of all the exhibits. His wonder is constant and watching it unfold is like watching the sunrise. Slow and breathtaking.
