Together With A Book

The rain was something special for us. It brought about memories of the night we met; the first night you held me in your arms, the first night we kissed, the first night we really saw the love in each other’s eyes. That was the first night of our life together.

For a while it was still hard for us because you resided in the Emerald Isle and I still lived in Tennessee. Each day we chatted; your early morn to my late night. Now though letters in your script arrived in my box and I held each one close to my heart. We spoke on the phone your rich Irish brogue and my soft southern lilt speaking of love and peace in a life together.

Through all the communications a dream we shared remained constant. The simple intimacy, a constant we wanted for our life together. We whisper quietly of cuddling together in front of a fire and reading to each other. The book did not matter; it is the sound of a voice filled with the simple touch, it is the comfort in holding each other in such sweet love.

* * * * * * *

A year later and it is, finally, our special day. My dress is of the simplest design in the purest of whites. A blush settles across my cheeks as my father walks me down the aisle sprinkled with rose petals of the deepest yellow. In my hands a bouquet of asiatic lilies, babies breath and deep red roses surrounding one single sunflower.

Ahead of me are your smiling eyes and that is where my focus is. You stand there in your kilted tux with tails; pure joy written across your face. Your eyes gleam with the deepest love and a twinge of nerves.

Finally, I’m standing beside you our hands held tight. The minister asks, “Who gives this lady into marriage?” My father responds with a tremor in his voice, “Her mother and I.” Your nerves seem to calm then, as though the simple blessing of my father takes a load off your mind. Our vows penned by our own hands and fed by the depth of our hearts are made and the exchanging of rings is completed. The minister pronounces us man and wife and we kiss our first married kiss. Together we run, hand in hand down the aisle and into a life together as man and wife.

The reception began settled and controlled. Old family and friends giving us their congratulatory remarks and encouragement for the trials and tribulations we shall surely face together. Soon enough though those of the older age bid us farewell and the party really begins. With a wedding such as this there is no way we can not serve alcohol and our friends all begin loosening up with each drink they have. The band has begun to liven up and the long haired drummer we are so fond of starts really showing off in his kilt and tee, all that’s left of the kilted tux he had worn when standing beside you.

Together we dance, your arms tightly around me and mine around you; moves we are freer to make now then we have ever been. The fast rhythm beat out by our dear one steady and constantly moving us along as we laugh, sway and move together. Slowing it down the band begins performing the song we have chosen as ours. Laying my head upon your chest together we float around the room in what is to be our last public dance of the night. At the final note we head towards the door, our dearest friends waiting to throw the rice and yell as we drive off.

A black limo awaits us to take us to our destination. Sliding in I see a small package upon the seat and reach for it. Written on the small card were three simple words, ‘To your dream.’ Quizzically I look at you and you shake your head. Carefully opening the silver threaded paper I smile; a book of love poems with a bookmark picturing our first picture as a couple. Leaning against you in the comfort of the limo I begin to read the gentle words of love. Your head rests atop mine in this position as your arms wrap around me holding on tight. Taking turns we read in whispered tones in between kisses and touches.

When we reach our destination we carry the book in with us for our other items are already there. Opening the door wide you sweep down and pick me up the book held tight in my hands. Overcome with laughter I grab and hold on around your neck tight as you tenderly bend your head to capture my lips. Walking through the door you don’t even put me down, kicking the door closed on a past of separate lives you carry me to our matrimonial bed.

* * * * * * *

Now it’s done; we are one heart, one family, one name forever. We are in our first home together, not our dream home for that is being built. My days are spent in the classroom fighting students who don’t think they need an education while you build hopes and dreams for others with each nail you hammer. After work we meet on our land and work on what shall be another part of our dream completed; a house of our own. When our light is gone we head to our flat.

Once dinner is done and all the house work is too, we sit together speaking of our day apart; the ups the downs, the new and the old. Moving to our corner of the couch it is your turn to read. You sit and hold out your arms, I curl up in them laying my head against your chest. You kiss my hair and then begin in your strong and loving voice to read the words written in our chosen book. We read this way until my eye lids begin to droop. Softly you close the book and lay it on the table in its normal place. Kissing my hair again you whisper, “Tis time for bed, my sweet.”

Hand in hand we walk down the hall towards our shared bed. Quickly we ready ourselves for bed and crawl in together. Snuggling together my head upon your arm, your other arm draped across me, holding me tightly; I hold this arm tightly against my heart. I whisper, “Goodnight my love,” and you respond, “’Til morning comes, mo chroi.”

* * * * * * *

Now its 9 months after our first anniversary and the house is finally empty except for us and our sweet Anya. She is exhausted by the excitement of her first birthday. I stand at the door watching and listening as you rock her, reading the tale of “The Bee, The Harp, The Mouse, and The Bum-Clock” in your beautiful brogue. The peace that surrounds you brings tears to my eyes.

In your arms her beautiful eyes have closed and she has fallen to sleep. Closing the book softly you place it on the side table; standing you tilt your head to kiss her forehead as you walk her to her crib. Kissing each cheek you lay her down amidst her stuffed animals. Smoothing the light blanket over Anya you whisper, “Oiche mhaith, cadladh samh, a chailin mo chroi.”

Turning you finally see me standing in the doorway. I reach towards you smiling and grasping my hand you lean down and softly kiss my lips. Together we walk hand in hand down the stairs to our library.

It’s my turn to read so I grab a book from the shelf and settle into the chaise lounge. Leaning back I make room for you to lie against me using my tummy as your pillow. Your hand rubs my belly as I begin to read a poem of love and life.

At the end of the poem I see your eyes are resting but know you are still awake. Putting the book on the table beside us I begin to gently rub your head and a tear touches the corner of my eye. Softly I whisper, “My Captain, I love you.”

Tilting your head to look at my face you begin, “I lo…,” but you stop. Reaching up you gently wipe the tear from my eye and inquire, “Amanda, my love, what is wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong, everything is right! It took us years to get here, but here we sit in our beautiful home, married, a beautiful a daughter asleep in her crib and a son on the way,” I smile at this last part because I knew it would shock you.

“Yes we have . . . wait, did you say a son?” you ask with eyes wide and hope in your voice.

Looking deep in your eyes I smile and nod. I laugh as you grab my face and kiss it all over, finally settling on my lips in a kiss filled with so much joy, love and passion. Scooting down my body after our kiss you raise up my shirt just to show my belly and lovingly rub it. I can hear your whispering, “I will make you proud, my son. I will be the best da you can ever have.” Then you lean forward and kiss my belly, turn your head and lay your head on it. The moon shining its light through the bay window and the flames in the fireplace licking at the wood gives us such peace as we hold each other in simple joy. Closing my eyes in complete peace, I drift off to sleep with you cuddling my belly as though already cuddling your son.

* * * * *

I wake up with dread knowing that today our daughter with your eyes, our sweet Anya shall be heading off to her first day of school. Lying in your arms I don’t move; I love the feel of you so close, the pounding of your heart beating upon my back in its soft rhythm. I sigh as a tear comes to my eye and your arms tighten around me so I know you are awake. Turning in your arms I whisper, “Is our little one growing up so quickly or is this a dream?”

“Tis no dream, my love,” you whisper against my cheek as you lean to kiss my lips softly. “The years since we have met have flown by and we now have a little one in Kindergarten and a wild and precocious 4 year old that could test a Saint’s patience.”

Laughing at that I look into your eyes with a twinkle in mine, “Tis his father’s mischievous behavior that our small Collhem has; his quest for adventure in such a life as ours here.” Looking at the clock we see that it is time to rise and begin our day. After taking enough time to enjoy a beautiful good morning kiss we rise from the bed. Looking out the window I see there are clouds filling the sky but a weak stream of sunlight is forcing its way through.

“Ah, such a dreary day for our little one to leave home for the day. I had wished to leave her wrapped in sweet warm sunshine at her new class,” I complain aloud to no one really.

Coming up behind me you whisper in my ear, “We shall all go together taking her to her first day of class.”

I smile, I love seeing how you always want to be a part of everything to do with our little ones. From their first diaper to the bath time, from feeding time to clothes shopping; you are always ready to be there. Unless work or the weather keeps you away, you are home at each bedtime and here at every breakfast. Our kids are living a family life neither of us had on a regular basis.

Getting dressed we quickly walk towards our little ladies room, a tribute to the fairies of our fair land. Opening the door we see our little flaxen haired girl crying on her bed with a broken crayon in her hand.

Hearing the door open she looks up and runs to you. “Da, I’m so sorry. I wanted to make a pretty picture of us so you would remember me while I am at school and I broke the brown. Now I can’t color in our eyes. I don’t want you to forget what color my eyes are.”

Stooping down, “A chailin mo chroi, I shall never forget my beautiful Anya no matter how long we are parted. You are printed on my heart, each smile I remember and each laugh makes me laugh. No tears now sweet child for you start school today and that is a happy time.”

Watching you with her on this day I can’t help but remember each time you rocked her to sleep at night before placing her gently in her crib. The memories bring tears of sweet joy to my eyes.

“Momma, why do you cry, now, Da said tis a happy time?” she looked up into my tearful eyes and asked.

Bending to join you on the floor I take her in my arms and hug her tightly. Holding her to me I answer, “Your Da is right. These are tears of joy because I am remembering you as a mere babe but now you are my big girl. Going to school is a happy time for you are to be given the gift of education. ”

“Does that mean when I get home I will be able to read and write like you and Da?”

“Not yet sweet one. You already do well with reading and you can write your name and alphabet you also know how to count and how to add and subtract, but there is much to learn at school. Your Da and I both went to school many years to read and write as we do now. You will someday be able to read and write just as well but you must work hard.”

“Yes, momma. I will work hard.” She directed her beautiful smile at both of us. “I want to make you both very happy.”

Smiling at me over her head you tell her, “Mo chroi, you already make us happy. You and your brother are the sunlight that shines on us each day. You both are the rain that makes the grass and flowers grow. No matter what you make us happy, just by being here with us.”

“Now let us get you ready for school so we can all have breakfast together before leaving the house.”

You help her find the right clothes to wear and get her supplies together, including a new crayon box with a whole brown crayon, as I go down stairs to fix some waffles, eggs and sausage. On my way down I wake up Collhem and get him dressed quickly to go with us.

Sitting at breakfast we talk as we do every morning except for the air of excitement emanating from Anya. She rushed through breakfast and was soon ready to go, tapping her little patent leather Mary Janes impatiently as we clean the table quickly. Walking out the door you help her into the family car as I buckle Collhem into his booster seat. Seated in the front, you behind the driver’s wheel you grasp my hand on the arm rest and I look at you and together we smile.

Suddenly our Collhem looks at Anya and asks, “Sissy, will you read to me before we get to school?”
She agreed readily and grabbed her old and weathered copy of, “The Bee, The Harp, The Mouse, and The Bum-Clock,” the same one you read to her each night after her birth. Happily her little voice rattled through the story of how the boy acquired each item.

Arriving at the school I twist in my seat, “Anya do you want me to walk you in?”

“No momma, I’m a big girl and can go all by myself.” She replied. Unbuckling her seat belt she leans forward and kisses each of us, Looking directly at her brother she hands him her book and whispers, “Take care of this for me and I will read more of it to you when I get home.” Wrapping her arms tightly about her brother she kisses his cheek and then hops out the door. Skipping up the sidewalk we watch our little girl acting so grown up.