Right now, I am in heaven. The sun is just coming up and my little one has scooted himself as close as he possibly can to me and curled into my side to sleep and make adorable baby noises. My bigger one is on the other side of the bed. She’s just flipped around from the upside-down-pose she assumed for most of the night. And she is pressed as close to her daddy as possible, right up against his back, and she doesn’t seem to mind–she’s just happy to feel the security of someone else close by. She sleeps peacefully, breathes heavily. My husband snores lightly. I take all this in, again and again. Never forget this moment, I tell myself. Thank you, God, for this, I pray silently.
There is thunder. It rumbles as the dark clouds hang over the water. The sky is painted gray and black and navy. It is peppered by flashes of lightning. The water is dark but calm. The terra cotta roof is a contrast to the gloomy sky. But I don’t mind–there is peace, even in the looming storm.
I think about getting up to have my coffee on the lanai, to watch for birds and dolphins, to gaze for miles upon the water and be rocked by the sound of the gentle waves and the rolling thunder. But I don’t want to leave my post. If I move, this moment will be over. I will no longer feel my son’s warm little body pressed against mine, hear his soft baby breaths, and smell his sweet baby smell. If I move, I won’t be watching my daughter’s little mouth twitch as she sleeps. I won’t see her pull every blanket to her as she slumbers, completely unaware that she has left the rest of us with a chill.
I will stay right here and enjoy the light that is spilling through the windows, despite the storm outside, and casting shadows on my slumbering family. How am I so blessed? I wonder. Why me? Why do I get to have such a wonderful life? Yes, I will enjoy this scene for at least a little while longer. And I will embrace the storm. I will not wish it away in favor of sunshine. Because the storm and the peace exist together. The storm does not have to interrupt my good life. It can make it richer. It can keep me inside longer to enjoy my family. I think about the obvious metaphor. I smile.
What a wonderful time I’m having. And there is still more to come.