The forecast: more icy air, and Iâ€™m starting to feel antsy with winter. But today pure sunshine reflecting off the snow and spilling onto the hot pink flowers on the windowsill. It was weekend of long naps; of using a winch to get the truck out of a snowbank; of cheap red wine and good friends with toddlers running pell-mell; of a handful of quiet moments with a magazine on the couch, coffee cup in hand, its sweet fragrance rising up with the steam.
Also, it was a weekend of roller coaster emotions. In one instance Iâ€™m sure weâ€™re in it for the long haul: weâ€™re standing together in the sunlight in the kitchen, arms around each other, kissing, while our kid eats kiwi circles; and then in another instance weâ€™re off kilter, unintended words tumbling like the triangular blocks at the top of the tower that make the whole castle fall, a geometric mess of shapes onto the floor.
Right now for us there is no room for error, no space for careless words, for passive teasing, for jagged edges. Itâ€™s like weâ€™re always at square one, tossing the rock, jumping forward, trying not to land on the chalked lines, but doing so anyway. Remember that game? I used to play it for hours in the school yard. Now the stakes are high. Sometimes I wonder if weâ€™d be better off just friends and co-parents, it would be easier, maybe. Other times I can hardly fathom how much I love, or how perfectly my body fits against his, heart to heart in an embrace.
I really want to know, what is the bedrock that holds you together with the one you love? What connects you? What make you certain?