William woke, I nursed him, Ryan and I chuckled quietly at his strong personality, then they both slipped back into sleep. Quietly, I found my warm slippers, grabbed Ryan’s sweatshirt, and padded down the carpeted hallway. The doorknob at hallway’s end opened without a sound as I made my way to the kitchen.
My second morning in this house. Our house.
The coffee routine was a bit smoother this time around; yesterday was all clumsiness and trying to remember where the spoons were. Button pushed, coffee dripping, I headed to the couch in the family room. Here, a wall of windows looks out over breathtaking views stretching to the Adirondacks — but that will be when the sun comes up. For now, there is a blanket of gray fog wrapping our house, leaving only a dim idea of where edge of woods meets our yard.
How many mornings will be spent exactly like this, in this exact spot?
We are so, so blessed.
So much about this imagery sounds wonderful — the calm, peaceful view; the isolated drip of coffee for you alone; the comfy familiar couch in a new family room; a sleeping babe. But one my favorites is the soundless door that shuts them in and you out. Soundless doors. Hmmm… maybe someday. ;)