Just Write ~ The 14th

December 12, 2011

I woke up out of the habit of a lot of waking up and looked at the clock. 5:48. I rolled over, back to the dream I already can’t remember. Then came the shuffle of Miles’ morning entrance, the way I can feel him there even if I don’t hear him. 5:53.

I really thought it had been at least a half an hour since I dozed off again.

We last got Elsie back to sleep at 4 something. But 19 minutes after Miles came in, she was crying. I picked her up and she didn’t stop so I sat down with her and we rocked in the squeaking leather chair. Her brother wandered off to watch something on TV but suddenly he was in the next room, trying to get a butter knife out of the drawer.

Loud. Clanging. Banging. On a Nutella mission. I couldn’t call out for him to be quiet for the sleeping house without waking her so I just covered her ear with my palm and shot daggers to nothing out the doorway.

My mind wandered to design plans for a house by a lake. I don’t even really think about houses that much, but even so, this daydream made my heart flutter and peace came in my imagination, by the water. Quiet.

I could rock and hold her forever like that.

I prayed in fits and spurts, my mind doing the thing it does, going from thing to thing. 

The low rumble of a garbage truck reminded me that it’s Monday morning. Loud. Banging. Clanging.

I put her down and tiptoed. Quiet. I crossed the hall and passed by the bed and pulled the covers up to take away how it looked like I should get back in it. The room smelled like the coffee on the nightstand, gone cold, and when I pulled open the sock drawer to warm up my feet and not the coffee, I chose the ones from the hospital. They are so not in good fashion but they make me feel closer to Elsie. Navy blue with white bumpy tread on them. The white is fading from all the walking and washing. I can still see them on my feet in my mind’s eye, sticking out of the end of the hospital bed while I worried about her in the NICU. Six months have passed but not the worrying. Not today.

Loud. Banging. Clanging. The thoughts rushed in and I wanted to cross the hall again and pick her up and rock her all day. But Miles was hungry and Asher was up and we sat together with hard-boiled eggs and the monitor humming on the counter. We got ready for the day.

The quiet is between it all.

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This is the 14th installment of Just Write, an exercise in free writing your ordinary and extraordinary moments. {Please see the details here.}  I would love to read your freely written words so join me and link up below. You can add the url of your post at any time. Just be sure it’s a link to your Just Write post, not to your main page. There are really no rules, besides Just Write! (Then link back to this post in your post so people know where to go if they’d like to join in.) (Any links not following those two guidelines will be deleted.) 

Also. Please take a moment to visit someone else who has linked up! It’s a really good way to meet new writers and get inspired by the meaning behind their moments. Word?

 

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