Yesterday my mother-in-law asked for some French toast. I was more than pleased to quickly beat an egg with some milk, and a dash of salt and vanilla… butter in the pan makes it puffy and golden. Anything she wants. Anything at all. I dropped a few fresh raspberries on top. Maple syrup in the pitcher beside. She ate it all. Happiness.
As we hit the off-ramp, four minutes from home I stroked the back of my husband’s neck, and thanked him for the safe drive home. Again. I’m always thankful to be back. And I know how much he hates that long drive at night.
At our door was the mother of the pregnant lady who lives downstairs – she told me the twins had finally arrived, and that everyone was healthy and well. She beamed, that lithe, beautiful woman who had just become a grandmother that afternoon. We hugged and kissed each other, thrilled with all the goodness in the air. Two babies. Life goes on.
In the house, just as I went to set my bag down, I dropped my iPad. It hit the floor on one of it’s corners and lay face down, shattered. I didn’t swear once… but I ran down the back stairs to unlock the basement door for Martin, who was parking out back. As soon as he stepped out of the car, I burst into tears and told him about the tablet. Only, of course it wasn’t about the tablet… not really. He gave me a long, long hug – the good kind – the kind when your stomachs are touching, and the strength of the other has you held fast, and would never let you fall. We really should hug like that more often. (We all should.)
I cried until I was done.
And then he gave me a super-way-long overdue haircut in the kitchen, and afterward I passed in front of the mirror and felt pretty again.
And then I skipped out the door to visit with friends, late as it was, for a quick dip in the hot tub, and a glass of wine. For conversations with my good people, who keep my counsel, and let me swear all the swears, and cry if I want to, and hug me back, and pat my head, and the hot water helped wash away all the things that ail us. We laughed our fool heads off in the chilly night, as steam rose off our backs.
On the way back home, too late at night already, still chatting with my fox (because we have SO much to say all the time) I walked away and felt how cold I’d become standing still. I took a full deep breath and almost choked on the crispness. I felt stuffed by the kindness of others. I have such goodness around me. It’s a lucky thing.
I cozied up next to Martin in our bed, and spooned him. We can take take turns being the armour. Another week awaits and life goes on.
I drifted off to sleep last night thinking of this song by Leslie Feist. It was in heavy rotation on the radio and on Much Music around the time of Ava Scarlett’s birth, nearly five years ago now. Something about that pinging xylophone feels so… hopeful. Or something.
the wings are wide, the wings are wide
wild card inside, wild card inside