I was sitting at a restaurant table. There was a little baby boy sitting on my lap. You were sitting across the table, smiling and watching me. I was feeding the baby. Him squirming in his seat. I was talking in Vietnamese, scolding at him when he tried to reach for something that would break. I was teaching him too, getting him to repeat after me if he thought something tasted good or bad. I made him ask when he wanted more. I made him talk. He was getting better.
His big eyes sparkled with happiness. It gave me a very heartwarming feeling. I loved it. I adored him.
I gave him a lot of my food. I spent a lot of time feeding him. I didn’t eat much. But was happy giving it to him. I was happy. It felt nice.
An hour passed. Maybe even two.
“You’re paying more attention to him than me.” He teased as I finally put the boy in the high chair to my right.
“I’m sorry. How are you?” I smiled, putting my hand in his in the middle of the table.
My eyes probably shined with happiness. He smiled. It was the first time in a while that he saw such happiness and such light coming from my eyes. It had been a very exhausting few weeks but, with his help and the little bundle of joy, I was able to get through.
He got up to get another plate of food and I redirected my attention to the toddler. I started practicing some Vietnamese words with him. It was very heartwarming hearing his little baby voice repeat after me. I smiled with joy.
The people around us were busily eating and engulfed in their own conversations. I started to think back to when I had only focused on my own world. I had just went through my days and did what I had to do to survive. But now that I had this child and my own family, I was getting more aware of the world around me. I prioritized better and the world around me seemed to get a little brighter.
My husband comes back with two plates of food – one filled of rice and small edibles for the child and one with desserts for myself and him to share. I giggled at his offer and took a piece of cake.
Life was good.