Autumn
On Living: The days were filled with the kind of wakefulness that was here, but not here.
It was one of those fall days when the light was just the right color and the air felt like candlelight. We were bundled and the baby was bundled even more. Perry packed a picnic. Melt in your mouth burrata with balsamic that made your lips pucker. Dark green olive oil, thick and buttery and tasting of stone fruit. Vibrant Castelvetrano olives soaked in brine. A balance of sweet and salt that made you lick the tips of your fingers. A Malbec from Argentina — notes of dark plums, brown spice, and vanilla. The only way we’ve been able to travel overseas in these pandemic days is with our tongue. Raspberries, big as silver dollars, sweet like syrup. Perry brought sunflowers because what’s a picnic without flowers? They made you feel warm all over like the sun was shining directly into your mouth.
We had a 360-view of the mountains that were always blue, but we rarely looked up. We looked at the spread Perry had laid out, eating everything with our fingers and wiping them on our jeans.
We ate without speaking, filling the void in our stomachs that we’d neglected to fill.
We looked at each other. Pausing. Breathing.
It had felt like a lifetime since we looked at each other. I mean, really stopped and saw each other.
We’d pass each other in the dark.
Feed the baby.
Change the baby.
Hold the baby.
We took turns sleeping. Sleeping, but not really.
Resting.
We listened together.
Listening for his cries.
His sounds.
His breath.
The days were filled with the kind of wakefulness that was here, but not here. Awake to the baby and his needs, but not awake to each other. Everything felt far away.
Sitting across from each other in the fading light, we looked at Pressley. The gold sky filled his big, curious eyes. He smiled. All cheeks and innocence.
“How is he even real?” Perry said.
I shook my head and pressed my lips together. They tasted like salt and earth. I wanted to cry.
What do I do with all of this love? Ever-flowing, filling me to the brim. Will I be able to hold it all?
I looked at him as I do every second of every day, but every time felt like the first time. I looked at him and the sun exploded.
We looked at each other but everything went dark.