A Love Note

Watching life in the reflection of our copper, dome arch lamp on a snowy morning. Wrapped in blankets with an ice pack on my sore neck.

The T.V. flickers. I hear your breathy laugh. You go out to shovel. Miles plays with his toy cars and requests endless snacks. His tiny, inch-sized body moves across the dome to the window to see the freshly fallen snow. I think about the fear I held when he was an inch sized entity in my belly and was terrified I wouldn’t be able to hold onto him. After six losses before, it makes sense that I was so scared. I think about how you held us both. I let it be. I let it go.

What a gift. To be able to notice and to see it all so clearly.

I’m not free of pain, even in this moment. I never will be, but I can be with it all. With you.

I couldn’t turn my head to look but I could really see…everything.

Im doing better, in these moments, to remember to let these realizations of love light up every cell in my body. So that I can help as many people to catch a glimpse of their own light…clearly. And to hold it for as long as possible, too.