Tuesday Tales and As the Snow Falls

January 21, 2019

Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! It's time for Tuesday Tales.

A group of writers gather together and give our interpretation of a specific word prompt each week. This week we share the prompt "snow". You never know what you might encounter when you get inside our minds. This will be an excerpt from my brand new yet-to-be-named WIP.

Enjoy!~

Snow fell quietly out the window, engaging my rapt attention. Satisfied with my stillness, my baby rested his sleeping head on my bosom. His tiny back lifted only slightly with each minute inhalation. The soft sound in and out his nose was akin to an emotive breeze, with just enough power to lift the ends of my hair, or stir small leaves. His entire relaxed body sank deeper into my chest the longer he lay in satisfied slumber. And, at that moment, I fully understood unconditional love- not only understood, but, I felt it to my core.

Fully aware of the sound and feeling, I studied my heartbeat more intensely than I ever had before. Regardless of how many physical duties my heart had, I realized one of its’ more important functions had everything to do with the butterflies in the stomach kind of love. The kind you remember for a lifetime, and if you’re lucky, can still feel it just as long- even if the object of your affection was forever gone. The kind of love making a mother fiercely protective, yet remained as delicate as a snowflake. The kind of love making a father proud, keeping watch over his private tribe- only wanting the best for them all- and willing to die trying to give it to them.

I looked out the window, wishing I could capture some of Mother Nature’s magic. It matters not how many times this infant miracle engaged motherly butterflies throughout my tummy, what mattered at this moment was just how much pure love I felt coursing between he and I. An image of his daddy’s smiling face entered my mind, rising from the memories I’d tried so hard to lock away. Throwing the imaginary key out open windows of fantasy, over and over, I’d only wanted to subdue the pain, saving it for a day when I was strong enough to handle its’ razor sharp reality. But, somehow, his steadfast stubbornness plowed through my carefully laid locks, forcing me to remember my love for him as well.

He gave me this gift I now held snuggled into my arms.

I loved him unconditionally. I never believed or conceived of such a notion until I held his sleeping son. I desperately tried to think of a time I doubted how much I loved his dad, and proudly couldn’t think of a single moment in time. Even when I was the maddest, I think I loved him the most during the trying times. Funny how parallel love and anger weave in and out of our existence. The strongest of passions collide from either smiles and snarls. Tears of realization fell down my cheeks, silent as the snowflakes and I didn’t try to stop them.