I’m laying in bed watching my husband sleep. Cuddled up to him in between us is our 18 month old. You wouldn’t know he was there unless you looked hard enough, his light blonde hair is all that’s showing from under our white comforter and In the dark they look almost the same. My husbands thick, dark, almost black hair and straggly beard contrast with the soft, fair, blonde hair of our baby. The tiny soft curves of a baby slowly turning more and more into a little boy, laying next to the strength of a man. In sleep you can see the wildness, and sometimes harshness of the boy tamed and gentle. The strong, lean man holding his baby and in these moments he is vulnerable. I wonder, how many other women are laying awake watching their babies or husband or both, while they are sleeping. Perhaps she is also overcome with love and peace at the sound of her loves breathing in almost perfect unison, safe and sound. And maybe she too, somewhere out there, feels that there is no where else in the entire world she wants to be but right here in this bed….but simultaneously the ache and sense of longing to be far, far away grows. For at this time of night The calling of the ocean, the Joshua trees, the stars, adventure…it’s so strong I would almost swear I could hear the waves or smell the desert. I look at them and I ache. I ache because I love them so much it hurts, and I ache because I also want to run wild and free.
I sigh, I kiss them both, and go to sleep myself.
Love. Love. Love.