Tuesday, October 28, 2008

The Smell of Ecstasy

It happened in a moment of unawareness, without foreknowledge or remorse. It lasted merely a moment, but the memory still invades my mind. You see, I changed, the second the tip of my nose brushed across the downy soft head of the screaming infant in my arms, I knew I would never be the same again. It was "that" smell. This smell I speak of is one some will spend a lifetime trying to scrub free from their homes, and it's the same smell others spend a lifetime crying for it's lack of invasion in their lives. This is the smell of joy, pain, hope, newborn family, or possibly the reminder of one's loss of innocence. It's the smell of ecstasy, the smell of humanity in its greatest form; it's the smell of a baby.

1 comment:

Mark Brandon said...

I love babies- but I'm afraid of them. I was so scared to hold Haven (my new niece) because I thought I'd break her. Yes- that's the words I said (and thought) when it was my time to hold her. But I love her so much- and I don't even know her yet. I think why people love babies is not because of what they are, but what they could be someday.

Babies = pure potential wrapped up in a warm, smelly, little miracle.