It has been nine months and one week since we sat here just like this, you with your guitar, me curled into the corner of the couch with my knitting. That night you played through your entire repertoire of love songs while I timed contractions. I didn't tell you what I was doing until you wound down the music, fingers aching from the strings. I wasn't ready. I wanted the timer to be wrong. I wanted them to ease and spread apart and wait a few more days. I wasn't ready to give up the sweetness of just us two alone in the house on a winter night doing two of our two favorite things.
Tonight I sit next to the baby monitor and hope your music doesn't wake her, but I don't want you to stop. Tonight it is just as sweet as that night, maybe sweeter yet. Sweeter for the baby who sleeps down the hall who didn't come so quickly after all, sweeter for the luxury of setting aside our tasks and chores and to-dos for the evening and doing instead those things that feed us.
sounds perfect Dona :)
Posted by: jo marks | Sunday, November 06, 2011 at 09:44 PM