I stayed up last night to finish off tonight’s book club selection (Smoke and Ashes by Tanya Huff), and when I went to bed Charlie was already fast asleep.
It was raining outside, a steady pouring that we haven’t had for so very long. And in that darkened room, the only sounds being the water coming down and his breathing next to me, all I could think to myself was how very, very happy I was. There was just something about the juxtaposition of the two sounds that made everything right.
Have you ever found yourself really waiting for just that right combination? It’s funny, the more traditional “yes, this is what I really wanted” is probably something along the lines of a fancy night out and a great dinner. But the more realistic one (at least for me, but I am pretty sure that I am so very much not alone on this) is, I think, along those lines.
Lying down next to Charlie with one arm around him, I kept hearing the chorus of a quiet Jonatha Brooke song go through my head. (Which as I learned this morning, she wrote as a birthday gift for her husband.) When it comes to the big big picture? I’m really content.
Church bells ring at odd hours
But dinner’s always ready at 8
And the jasmine floats in from the mountains to our window
And it’s never too late