I just woke up to pray Isha prayer (with my husband on the night shift, we sleep really odd hours all the time) and now the house is quiet. A few of my friends have been advising me to really enjoy the time I have – as they warn me of the impending doom that my little Bundle of Joy is going to bring into my life: interrupted sleep, late-night feedings, stress. While I know some of that is true, I still feel that there will be spaces in there where I can find enjoyment in holding my little one in my arms.
But I do heed their advice. Right now, the house is dark and still. My fluffball cats are comfortably sleeping on their respective couches, curled up tightly and occasionally making little fluttery kitty sounds in their dreams. My husband is silently asleep in the bedroom. The dryer is rocking in the laundry room and pretty soon a colorful array of warm towels and washclothes will emerge. Soon they will be stacked in perfect piles on the kitchen table, pleasing the Perfectionist in me.
My stomach is full of fresh kiwi that I just peeled and cut up; my body feels refreshed and clean after praying. There is something peaceful about this moment – a moment I won’t have a chance to live again, a moment that can’t repeat itself in all of its particulars. Cool night air breathing in through the fan in the window, bringing in smells of fresh flowers and cut grass. A house at rest, relaxing after a long day in the hot summer sun. Soon we will be saying good-bye to this place, an end and a beginning towards something new. I don’t know what the future will hold for us, but as for right now, I’m satisfied just being.