The best view for me is the one without my glasses and Ibraheem seated on my lap, chattering away. For my farsighted eyes, everything else is a blur except his handsome face.
The sparkle in his eyes and the dimple on his cheek when he smiles, just melt my heart. I cherish his pearly whites, peeking at me whenever he opens his mouth and the feel of his little fingers tracing the landscape of my face.
A soft poke at my closed lids.
A little, gentle push with his index finger.
“Mouffff.” (He still can’t make the ‘th’ sound)
His finger slowly traces my lips and as I smile, he touches my teeth.
This is when nothing else matters.
Not the clutter of his toys, strewn all around the living room.
Not the cookie crumbs sprinkled like sand on the carpet.
Not the untouched pile of books that are supposed to be read before the summer vacation.
All that looks hazy and bleary.
The only thing in focus is my son. And that’s all that matters.
As he crawls out of my lap, bored of his biology lesson, I thank Allah for my farsightedness. Grateful for those precious and blessed moments, when everything else is a blur, except for his face, inches away from mine.
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