My Charlie

My Charlie
Who doesn't talk
But isn't silent

Wasn't sure he remembered
when I walked through the door
who I was or that I'd been gone

He humored me with a little smile
let me get in the smallest hug
a kiss
then pointed and grunted
to his pile of French fries

My Charlie
with the crooked back
who used to have a hard time
breathing in winter
who was born so tiny
and slept in a laundry basket

He jumped in my bed this morning
with his tiny stuffed monkey
and his Mr. Potato Head
to smile and pat my hair
to humor me a little more
as I smothered him with kisses

My Charlie
who will take me by the finger
and lead me around the house
till he finds just what he wants
and point
and look at me with saucer-wide eyes
till I figure him out

This morning
he wanted me to carry him around
and let him turn the light switches
on and off -
to make me wish that I could laugh in wonder
the way that he does
at the simplest joys

My Charlie
will always stoop when he sits
and cough in winter
and be stingy with affection
and have magic in his eyes