Diary of a Due Date

Today was dripping with pretty.

I woke up to the quiet licks of lightening, appearing like white veins in the grey sky. The cracks of thunder moved me to the window. The scene was drenched. Flowers lit up our yard--bits of paint, yellow and red roses. They were bright and vivid. Bursting against the slicked green leaves. 

I listened to the sound of the world and loved her. Loved her chatter. The cymbal sound on the concrete. I was glad for it. Glad that today looked different than other days. I wanted the outside to be different. 

I walked for an hour today with my mother-in-law in this warm, wet neighborhood--we trekked over the hills, pausing at snails. It felt purposeful--her and I--waiting for the little guy, swinging him in my hips, encouraging him. We ate egg and cheese sandwiches and baked sugar cookies, frosting them at the table. I drank my raspberry tea and we enjoyed the weather together. The silence outside soothed me. 

I am so tired now. I let the Big Day pass over me. I am thankful for it. Thankful it's over. I can get on with real things, like uncertainty. And life.