We rest in the mornings, in the quiet, before the bigger kids wake up. Quietly reading the news or Facebook, whatever we have the mind for. Talking about daily events, our personal and social struggles with the universe, our feelings, lives, and worries, exhaling racism, sexism, Islamphobia, transphobia, breathing in the peace. Today we will take up the fight, tomorrow too, and the day after that no doubt. We have this moment for us, to breathe, to be, to live in the love of each other.
Invariably the littlest girls wake up just long enough to fall asleep in our laps again. Shouldn’t let the parents sleep in of course. Their sweet peaceful trust radiating. This is love.
Today my oldest lays his head on my shoulder, long limbs curled up as small as possible. He will be thirteen next month. Neither he nor I are quite ready for this, beginning of his journey into manhood. Let that be tomorrow’s worry, today we have snuggles. Today we have togetherness, warmth, love…and a very sparkly tree that probably needs put up.