In the Still of the Night

There are these stolen moments at the end of the day--assuming that I manage to stay up later than my night owl teenagers--where all the world is quiet.

Really quiet.

The hum of the computer tower is the white noise behind the click-clack of my fingernails on the keyboard. Surprisingly that staccato sound does nothing to disturb the internal hum of calm and consciousness I am streaming now. Distantly, there are thoughts echoing; agenda for the upcoming day, to-do lists and other measure of accomplishments and ways to dissect the time. Relentlessly, those will bubble to the surface soon and define my existence, but for now, in this moment, there is mostly stillness in my world. In the rush of pure thought, which clicks into rhythm, lines up with logic and answers all of life's quandries in split second coherency, I am understanding personified.

Trust me when I tell you, if you could climb into my brain right now, there would be awe.

If I could, I would capture these moments, bottle them and hold them fast. There they would sit on the shelf, proudly displayed, next to my other favorite, very esoteric things. Like that moment just before Andrew falls asleep, his eyelids so heavy it seems he can't manage the sudden weight of his eyelashes. The next breath after they slam closed is heavy, slow and warm.

And like the dawning realization moment when I recognized for the first time that I was looking up into my Ian's eyes, not down at the top of his head. Days of my firstborn as shadow and companion long gone and in his eyes I see the seeds of every bit of independence we've attempted to plant over the years. Harvest feels like it's merely days away.

Moment to moment with my daughter, ever increasing in her beauty, interweaving her own way with patterns of mine. Gestures, phrases, and expressions could be a mirror, but I know that's not me. That's her. And she's on her way to something--some things--very, very good.

And every moment (yes, all of them) with a companion who knows me every inch and still he's here. His very presence echoing the I love you forever message he promised me when we were forever young.

Maudlin moments, sure. But they are mine.

And I am gonna hold them tight.