20 November 2017
another week unfolding.
papa's been away, traveling for work and working so hard, and it's been days and days of you and me. he comes home tomorrow, just in time for us to fly south for thanksgiving, and i think we're all looking mighty forward to the rest and togetherness this sweet holiday brings. you are most spirited when he is near, and i understand: you already know he's the best friend we have ever had.
i say we because that is what we are. for a blink of an eye, you breathe through my body and i am your first home and you are my second heartbeat, my constant companion, my littlest love.
we've made the coziest pair these past few days, drinking cupfuls of cocoa, deep cleaning the apartment, making a corner for our christmas tree and a corner for you. we've read books in bed and taken hot baths and listened to bach's cello suites and sorted treasures i have gathered for you these months. these years.
nights, i sit vigilant, studying my belly for ripples, the way one might watch for whales kissing the surface of the sea. i read you poetry i hope you will remember and watch our tree change from the window i'll walk you to in spring. we bought a dress because i like the way we look in it — like this scene that brews behind my eyes: years on, your dimpled toddler hands, reaching and reaching, lost in the hem.
you make me laugh with your wild. you kick to music, you kick to the sound of city, you kick each afternoon at half past four. i while way whole stretches of time imagining vignettes of your days. it's a gloomy afternoon (you are wearing an oatmeal cardigan, lounging on our blue velvet settee, paging through the new yorker). your tiny feet rumble like thunder (you're out in prospect park, swaying to beirut). you're a trapeze swinger, you're one of degas' dancers, you're floating up up up in a red striped balloon...
this is how soon you are: yesterday i bought a carton of milk dated four weeks before you and tonight the air smells cold — a small, beautiful sign that winter is nigh and so is the only one who knows my heartbeat from the inside.