Thursday, September 9, 2010

The Living Portion of Life

These past few days have been hard.  My cold has been beating me By nightfall I am spent.  Like a poor man's last nickle.  Completely and painfully.  After I kiss my little darlings' heads and softly close their doors my thoughts instantly rendezvous with my bed like a drunkard to his whiskey.  We are inseparable.  We are BFFs swapping secrets only the secrets are really just my dreams.

Last night I was asleep by 8:30 and nothing could rouse me until 1:30 but the hungry cries of my daughter and my aching chest responding.  Or a pat on my arm and a soft voice by my ear this morning saying "Mommy, I'm hungry.  Wake up."  I tried to send Keith back to bed as it was only 6:30, but he would have none of that, so I had to get up.

But being up is always good.  That's when the living portion of life starts.  And I wouldn't have missed today for all the poor man's nickles in the world. 

It was cold and cloudy and rainy.  So of course we donned our sweaters and slippers, and flung all the windows wide.  There is nothing more pleasant and energizing than fresh air made clean by the rain.  That combined with the beginnings of a changing season are pure unadulterated bliss in the air.

Faye was feeling it too.  We were sitting on the rug with the curtains whipping around behind us in the wind.  I think she heard Courage coming from the wind going straight to her soul.  She stood up, apple in her hand, balanced for a moment, and then plopped back down.  She stood up, face determined, balanced and fell.  Again she held tightly to her little green apple, stood up, wobbled, and fell.  And then it clicked in my brain.  As if it wasn't obvious, I finally realized what she was trying to do.  I immediately put my arms out, and saw her Mona Lisa smile play around her mouth.  She was pleased I had finally caught on.

She balanced.  She wobbled a bit, but she stayed up.  Her beautiful eyes locked into my heart, reached out her arms and....

...took a step.

And another.

And anoter.

Until she has crossed the room.  And finally, a few steps from me, she dove, landing with her head in my lap and a giggle on her tongue.

My little Fayelicious is walking!  I squealed with laughter, scooped her up and twirled around the room.  When I set her down again, Keith, with jealousy screaming from his eyes said, "Look Mom, I can walk too!" and then wobbled over to me, imitating Faye's uncertain steps.  So of course we squealed, twirled around, and I planted a smooch the size of Brazil on his forehead.

And that is how the rest of the afternoon went.  Faye walking.  Excitement.  Jealous Keith walking.  Loving and assuring him.  Wind dancing around us as we danced and walked and squished around each other.

Unfortunately, my camera was in the car, and the car was at Jeffrey's work.  Oops!  I will have to catch her adorable unsteady steps tomorrow.  And so with a head as heavy as Alaska dipped in lead due to my cold, and a heart as light as helium due to the events of the day, I am going to rendezvous with my BFF to catch up on some secrets... er, dreams.
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