One Day

One day they will have accomplished their lives and lie next to each other 6 feet deep, lulled to sleep by the melody of Mother Earth, and drawn out of it by their Father into a brilliant world where they will stand, side by side, awash in white light. Luminescent.

Now, however, in this moment, right now: he whispers a final “goodnight”, teetering on a laugh as if something is funny. Maybe there is something funny. She never really knows, and probably never will.

Artwork by Emiliano Bastita

Right now she presses her head against his chest to listen to his heartbeat and slow down her own, but one day she will be looking out to the sea, standing on the shores of Prince Edward Island. She will realize her own insignificance, how she carries no weight when placed on the grand cosmic scale before her thoughts are caught – he will step into her line of vision, skipping rocks into the Atlantic. He will be a reminder that her greater significance doesn’t have to affect the movement of the heavens above, but rather, the movement of a certain gentleman who, at that moment, will manage a perfect triple skip across the water.

Right now he kisses the top of her head and smiles into her hair, but one day he will achieve his fourth hour of consecutive work on a stormy Friday night in July. He will be trapped by a fortress of paper towers that spill over and fall like snowflakes – she will wrap her arms around his shoulders, her dreamy whisper pulling him out of his trance like a parachute so that he lands on his feet as softly and easily as a cat. He returns to the reality outside of his head to be greeted by her teasing smile… then she stuffs her freezing wet hands down the back of his shirt so that he yells in surprise. Her laughter will ring out as he finally pushes himself out of his chair to chase her around the room, teetering papers momentarily forgotten as her body is grabbed in mid-air.

Artwork by Emiliano Bastita

Right now they are dreaming something incoherent, immersed in the last traces of anniversary cloud nine, but one day her mother will place a veil over her face and squeeze her shoulder in reassurance. She will know that this is exactly what she wants, and she will be sure that he wants it too. Rice will be thrown, rings will be exchanged, but nothing will sound more clearly through the noise of rejoice than the clarity of their gaze for each other. Cans will clang together as they drive off, finally having a single moment of peace ahead of a late night reception in the car. They will catch the other’s eye in the battered front-view mirror and begin to laugh deliriously, just as a bottle of champagne pops off in the distance, somewhere in their wake.

One day they will have accomplished their lives and lie next to each other 6 feet deep, lulled to sleep by the melody of Mother Earth, and drawn out of it by their Father into a brilliant world where they will stand, side by side, awash in white light. [Click To Tweet!]

Right now the sun is climbing, and he pulls her in more closely while just on the edge of slumber so that she sighs in her sleep, but one day in the far future his finger will be grabbed by an impossibly small fist. Everything will go on around him, but he will be taken only by person folded in his arms just as it lets out a scream of complete, uninterrupted life. He’ll look up at her, flushed, and she will open her eyes to see him holding the life they made together. With a rush she will realize that this is her family, and euphoria will flood into her body as she gazes at the man that made it all possible, he who built her up like blocks so that she could be the mother she is just blossoming into. With a deep sigh that echoes the one from right now, a night on the edge of dawn so long ago, she will finally know her place in the universe, gazing at her new born family.

Right now a breeze is carrying through a half-cracked window as they begin to stir, dreams dissipating so that it mingles with early morning breath, but one day a long way away, she’ll fall exhausted onto a dinner chair next to him and hand over a plate of cut pears. She will notice how grey they’ve both become, nearing the legal end of the role that has defined her for so many years. She will let her gaze fall to the table, pondering the twists and turns that led to this moment, including falling asleep on the couch the night before reading proofs for work so late into the night. Forehead wrinkled in worry, He will nudge her out of thought so that she looks up to see that he will have stuffed an entire pear slice into his mouth so that it stretches his face into a clown’s smile, drool drooping from his chin. He gives her a thumbs up, eyes watering with effort. Laughing and demanding he stop, she will remember that no matter how gray, white, and dusty they become, he will always be himself – a total idiot.

Artwork by Emiliano Bastita

Right now he is awake, and he stares up at the ceiling before turning his head and seeing her unconscious form fall and rise with every deep breath, eyes closed and flitting behind her eyelids. One day, so far far away, he will hold her hand loosely between his, no longer as warm, and tease her for being lazy so that she cracks a smile at least. Hair white as glistening snow, skin wrinkled as if someone had unfolded an origami and attempted to flatten it out on a table. She will be. he knows, herself, underneath layers accumulated by life. Her eyes won’t open – they won’t open very often at that point – but her smile will come nonetheless. He will at ease, if not for one more moment, that she will be putting up with him for just a little bit longer. With long rattling sigh she knows the same, and she will squeeze his hand for what might even be the last time.

But for now, right now, she does open her eyes. She is awash in the golden rays of the morning, and her big eyes fall on his. She stretches like a cat, then flops forwards on top of him so that he chuckles a little and plants more kisses on her forehead.

“Remember when we met, and how ambivalent we were towards each other? Could you have ever predicted that one day, this would be where we end up?”

“No. I had no clue.”

Artwork by Emiliano Bastita

They really didn’t have a clue. They still don’t. For now, though, they welcome the morning with each other as they reminisce the days to come, wondering if they will ever truly achieve everything they dreamed of last night, and be luminescent.

One day, maybe. For now, though, let it be just this. The present, with the future laid out before them.

Right now.

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