The children are asleep in the house, oblivious to the thundering crashes in the sky.
The concrete step is hard under my sore feet; the tree in our yard obscures much of the view; and the neighbor’s air conditioner blocks out the sound of most of the music.
For hours, people have been parking their cars in the grass a little further up our street, setting up lawn chairs to get the best view of the show. We have been eating pizza in the cool of our air conditioned living room, watching a movie, listening to the boys’ excited accounts of the first night of vacation Bible school.
This is really just an afterthought.
He had looked out the back door when the first explosion rocked the sky and said we could see them out that way.
So here we are, standing on the back step, leaning against the glass sliding door, his arms around me, watching the blooms of fire. We talk some– stand silent some– shift positions often. Just the two of us, here, now.
This is the way it was, ten years ago before the stretch marks and the sippy cups and the arthritis, when we walked together hand-in-hand on a warm evening to see the sky-fire. We thought we were so wise, then, with our newly made vows and old beat-up car.
This is the way it will be, years from now, although I cannot see the future really. Someday it will be the two of us alone together again, nest-empty, debating whether staying up to watch the pyrotechnics is really worth it, and can we do it from our rocking chairs on the porch.
But this, now, the two of us, in this stolen quiet-loud moment, is sweeter for the noise and chaos of our normal every day. He holds me tighter, and I lean into him, as I shift my weight from one aching foot to the other.
The sparks die in the air, leaving their smoky skeletons behind in the still night sky.
I am so blessed.
I haven’t read this yet, just wanted to say that I hit publish on mine too soon, I wonder what you read? yikes.
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Erin, this is beautiful.
I love the “smokey skeletons”… a very visual description.
Of course, i love everything you write…you put so much of your heart into it.
Blessed be.
Love this. Especially those last two lines.
Beautfiul words.
Loving your view…..
stolen moments… lovely.
for some reason, i want to cry at this. it makes me want to be with my own husband, we who were so wise once and are wiser now and will be finally foolish then… sigh. chills.
Oh Erin, this is beautiful. Those last two lines especially take my breath away!
And just so you know…we flew to MA and spent 10 days there, with a 24-hour respite in Maine during our stay. So no…no big, fat drive from NE to Maine for a 24-hour stay — that would be insane!
Well that makes WAY more sense. LOL
I love you, sweetheart. I am LOVING growing old with you
I can see you there, leaning. Maybe whispering. Nodding. Breathing.
Your “Smokey skeletons” give me the chills!!
this is just so very very marvelous.
a lovely picture you paint… i love the comfort of marriage.
I love those quiet moments. This is beautiful, friend. 🙂
This made me cry. I know this. And I love the quiet-loud moment.
We were just camping and I was thinking about how someday it will be just the two of us again, like it used to be. But how this big-small chunk of time in between makes the just-the-two-of-us moments even sweeter.
This is so beautiful. Thank you for linking it up for me to read.