The Bradford pears still haven't started turning, their leaves a weary yet determined green.
I went to Lily's midwife appointment today and by now I feel as if Diana is a part of our family. A treasured part. I adore her. She is down to earth, feet on the ground, but it's your birth and whatever you want- that's what she'll try to give you. She feels like Mama Knows Best, I think, and I love that. I also love that she tells her mamas to remember "no nookie November." She likes to take August off. Lily and her woman baby are fine. All measurements perfect, all signs good. Heartbeat lovely.
We all went to lunch again and passed August around. He is smiling so much now, that goofy toothless baby grin that makes you want to die from the cute. He also is starting to talk in the way that babies do, imitating whoever is talking to him, saying soft little words, his expression so serious, his brown eyes so huge. Gibson sat between me and his Boppy and he kept leaning over to me, memory-foaming his way onto my body, his big-boy head with his thick hair nestled into whatever part of me he could fit it into. My Hank hugged me so good and I laid my head down on his shoulder and just let him hold me and it felt like heaven.
It is truly amazing that sometimes, when things feel darkest, the sharp pierce of light, when it does come, is so bright. I notice it. I register it. I take it in and breathe it. There is nothing on this earth like touch to let the light leak in. Nothing.
I still don't know why I'm feeling this way. Maybe it's all just too much, all this goodness and this aging and the holidays coming and the way the fears and the joys get mixed up and mushed together and it's like when we used to play pinball and the older boys would shove those machines around with their bodies, their fingers working the flippers like kung-fu-fighting and suddenly there would be TILT! TILT! TILT!
Back off. Slow down, cowboy.
Jessie and Vergil are bringing that little boy out in just a few moments to eat supper and watch the Duke game. I had to ask Mr. Moon which sport Duke was playing. Basketball. They're getting leftover tuna casserole and I think they'll like it. It's a good tuna casserole, even though there's no potato chips on top.
Ah yah. They're here.
See you tomorrow. Okay? I hope so.
P.S. I couldn't choose so here you go.