The Spring Snow
A fleeting storm was raging outside.
I say fleeting because spring snowstorms only stay for a short while.
The house was dark, and the children were tucked deep into their dreams. All their excuses to stay awake were used up.
I opened the curtains, turned off all the lights, and collapsed into Jeffrey's yarns. He tells some of the best stories imaginable. We sat alone, watching the snow flutter to the ground. A car would occasionally rush around the corner, sliding, nearly hitting our mailbox.
We talked about our future. Our hopes and dreams, and the reality of our lives.
As a small child, as long as I can remember, I have loved watching storms. I love seeing the world slowly wrapped into a blanket of white fluff. Night storms are some of the best. Even with the darkness, there is a luminosity as they float around in the air. There is a surreal glow to the world that I have always been in love with. I used to pop popcorn, turn off the lights in the house, and snuggle up to the window enveloped in my blanket, the night and my thoughts.
Now, snowstorms are even better. I still either have my popcorn or a big mug of cocoa, but now, instead of a blanket, I get to cuddle up to my favorite person in the world. My safety net, my blanket of a man.
We get to talk, together, about the thoughts rumbling around in our heads. Tonight we talked about a dream I had last night. I was somehow trapped in East Berlin. Pre 1989. It was very weird. But it didn't matter. I had someone to share my thoughts with. I had someone to share the moment with.
This is why being married is so great. This is why marrying my best friend was probably the best thing I have ever done. This is why snowy nights are still some of my favorite.
And so, nights like tonight, I rush to put the children to bed. Just so I can turn out the lights and live in the moment.