Right now, at this precise moment, i am staring at the closed curtain on my overnight slumber party lofty bed. It’s been a beautiful 24 hours with an old, very wise, and dear friend. There is a sliver of the outside world creeping through the crack between the curtain and the wall… I can see that the branches of the tree outside my window are shaking – like a dog shaking water off it’s coat. It looks like chaos. Beautiful chaos.
I wonder to myself if I will be able to fly home today. The thought doesn’t concern me much, as much as I am missing my son this morning.
Old, familiar tunes seep into my head through earphones that caress my ears. I force myself to take a deep breath, as I recognize what I am feeling is a comfortable reality I once knew. An exhaled sigh speaks volumes about my relief knowing her light has just been hidden, and hasn’t gone out.
A momentary furrowed brow squeezes out moisture from my eye. I can’t tell what sort of tear it is. The emotion surprises me. Some sort of happiness. Some sort of mourning.
Raindrops tap the window like a hurrying finger as they paint the pane, summoning me out to play. I get the sudden urge to suit up in rain boots and coats and sing and dance on the wet, west coast beach.
Yes, I think that’s how this morning will begin.