"Unexpected Blessings"
Our bedroom is bathed in
moonlight. Perhaps, it is starlight. The
memory of one gone so long ago still
affects me, filling me once again with a
sense of such great loss. As I realize my
need for grounding, I reach out to touch
the man beside me.
His back is to me and his skin
is still slick from our time together
tonight. I have done this before,
watching him as he sleeps. He is still a
wonder to me, a shelter. The space
between his shoulder blades is a favorite
one of mine. It is a center, a place
where I know so many burdens have been
borne. I remember how many of them have
been mine.
He stirs and I pull my hand away
because I only wish for him to rest. This
gesture reminds me of how I held myself
back, away from him for so long. He had
to scale so many walls, break down so
many ramparts to find my heart. I smile
as I recall his patience and fortitude.
He never turned away. He was as steady as
the north star, almost daily finding ways
to reassure me of his care and concern.
Hundreds of small gestures built this
sacred trust between us.
My heart was so very cautious.
At first, I was just numb. My loss, our
loss was so great. I never thought that a
girlish laugh or a soft, pleasured moan
would ever again escape my lips.
Yet, they did. I recall that
first moment when we crossed that line
from confidants to intimates. He had been
holding me, yet again smoothing away the
cruelty of fate. His strong arms,
surrounding me, enveloping me with
security, dropped away as his hand rose
up to touch my hair. It was gesture that
seemed reserved for those who were far
more to each other than co-workers. We
had shared so much in our search,
however, that it did not surprise me. He
pulled back from me, his hands moving to
my face.
"I just want to take away the
pain," he whispered with tears in his
eyes.
And he did. His kiss that night
began a journey toward wholeness for both
of us.
As my gaze falls upon the
wedding band that I never remove, I am
reminded of the day we promised forever
to each other. Our covenant that day not
only involved us but extended to the
child who sleeps mere steps from our bed.
She is growing into a lovely little girl
who skips and dances through her days. I
am at peace to know that she is growing
up with the love of a mother and a father
to surround her. It is peace that I did
not think would be a part of our lives.
"Mommy? Daddy?" she calls into
the night, asking for our presence.
As I begin to pull back the
covers to go to her, I see that my
slumbering bed mate has already grabbed
his robe and glasses.
"I got this one," he quietly
says as he leans over to place a gentle
kiss on my forehead.
And as I watch Walter Skinner
leave our bed to tend a child not his
own, I know that I have been unexpectedly
blessed.
END
Feedback: Your words are nothing short of
blessings! joemimi@prodigy.net
Author's Notes: If you like surprises,
you'll enjoy "Musings of a Lovelorn
Insomniac," by Brit*Vik at Xemplary. It
is with her approval and support that I
wrote my story. Thank You!
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