Kaz

“What is it, what’s playing?” A disembodied voice perforates all the sound around me that I can’t hear. I’m so overcome with what’s in front of me- the warm weight on my chest, the softest velvet I’ve ever felt. My heart is so full, threatening to burst from my chest (and I’m in the right place for it) that it’s all I can feel or think about. I strain to listen, trying to bring my broken, glorious body back to the clinical brightness of the room. The protective curtain of my gown is keeping us from everyone and as my husband crouches down to gently sing in my ear, I hear it. Notes that have always made my heart swell but are now ingrained into my soul, smooth chords of pure love. Greedily I look down, which isn’t easy, but I can’t tear my eyes away from her. The music magically grows louder and crystal clear as I tune into it. Soul music, I understand that now. A million days in my arms is never enough, he knew all along. Just days ago, with a light heart and full belly, my husband sang these same words to me. Twirling through shafts of brightly coloured light, that room was also swollen with joy and celebration. The chequered floor was host to my footwork, more elephantine than ballerina. Monochrome squares witnessed the happiness between us, inside of me, soon to be here in my arms… and now she’s here curled up on me, the embodiment of all that is good in the world. Luther has it right, we’ve come a long way and yet this is only the beginning.