You got mad at me the other morning. I went running late on a Sunday -too late to be home before you awoke, too early to say bye before I left. I scared you with my absence, without a note for you, without my phone on me. You didn't know where I was, how long I'd been gone, when I'd be back. You were irked and I was wrong. We didn't talk it out, just let it go, but I think about how you were upset and take comfort in the fact that you were scared. Fear means you care, means you cherish me.
Most mornings I run or hit the gym while you slumber a little longer -being as beautiful as you are doesn't happen without some good sleep. Most mornings I'm up and at 'em, full of caffeine and rushing in to shower while you soak in just a few more moments wrapped in our striped sheets. Your eyes closed, your breathing steady, your mind on that tipping point of sleep begs me to soak you in. Sometimes I stare at you for a moment or two, you unaware the way I'm selfishly trying to remember you knowing one day, hopefully far, far away, we won't be together. Cherishing you, that's what I'm trying to do.
Then there's those special mornings, the ones where we take it slow, we sit at the table and sip frothy cups of coffee, inhale chocolate-peanut butter chip pancakes doused in maple syrup, talking about our dreams and the little bits of book we consumed before bed last night. Those mornings won't last forever, I know that deep within my soul, so I'm pausing to cherish them. And to cherish you as you are right now. You are mine without the demands or distraction of kids, or insane schedules, or busy-ness.
I cherish you more than any boot or shoe in our closet, more than that fluffy wedding dress I wore that one time, more than every hair on Hazel's little head and body and tail.
Knowing this won't last forever, reminds me how much I adore you right in this moment.
Yours truly and wholly,
Amber- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -