Peaceful night

The boys are in bed, Josh just left for work and the house is quiet. I am ready for bed but couldn't quite settle down to sleep just yet. Outside there is the kind of softly falling snow that captures the imagination and calms the spirit. I opened the door to let Cosmo out and just stood for a moment to watch. It's cold so I pulled the open front of my zip-up sweatshirt closed with my hands and continued to watch. It was a bit of a surprise as the weather report at dinner seemed a bit pessimistic that we'd get much more than a few flurries to dust the ground, but there are big fat flakes drifting to cover the ground, the deck and the twin toy lawnmowers left out from our 70 degree days last week. There is no wind so it is quiet and still outside. I snap a couple of pictures, shiver and motion for Cosmo to come inside. Somehow it feels almost irreverant to holler or whistle for him. Inside I rub my hands together and finish the little tasks I set out for myself in my mind before going to bed. Three bottles are ready and measured for tomorrow, to save time during the day, when there doesn't seem to be much available. I put some more milk down Gabe's feeding tube and watch him sleeping with the same sort of awe and peaceful stirrings I felt while watching the snow. He's snuggled up to his little lamb, which is fitting. I wonder if that image will make me laugh, smile or sniffle in the coming months as he develops and grows and ultimately joins his brothers tearing through the house. A bit of all three I would imagine. I snap a picture of Gabe too and quietly step out of the room. I check on the older boys, but don't dare snap a picture for fear I will wake them. Might be interesting to have a picture of them sleeping in their beds instead of in the car, at the table, or on the stairs. I think my mental check list is pretty well complete, or at least good enough for tonight, so here I am...sorting my thoughts so they won't keep me awake. As I absorb the calm (it never lasts around here, and I wouldn't trade it...most of the time) little fissures of ...something I can't quite put my finger on threaten to interrupt it. As the days turn into weeks which have melted into months, I am struck by the thought that we really prepared ourselves for something we had to tell ourselves we could handle, never allowing room for doubt or we'd be sunk. We believed we could handle whatever we had to face because the alternative was unacceptable. But it hasn't been so bad. I know the winter isn't over and that, I think, is the point. Forgive my rambling thoughts for a moment. We faced big odds and a lot of things we couldn't control. We have done what we can to minimize our risks but we knew all along we might reach a point where all of those things we couldn't control might negate our efforts to keep our family safe. But so far that hasn't happened. I'm not saying it's been easy every day - maybe just easier than I thought it would be. But that brings me back to this peaceful, beautiful night where all is right in our world and it gives me pause. It gives me pause because I think the last time I felt such a calmness, I didn't know we were standing on the brink of a free-fall. It's good and it's bad. It's good because it reminds me to be vigilant, not to get too complacent. It's bad because it steals away a little of that feeling of security which we crave. We want to know at some point that everything is going to be fine and nothing can harm us or those we love. Ofcourse life comes with no such guarantee. We can't live in fear of tomorrow - or I suppose we can, but that can be so exhausting. Our story isn't over, we still have much to do and some of the chapters may be hard to write. For now I will put the unease away and savor the stillness.