He has a look.

It is a glint, a gleam, a slight raise of the eyebrow. It is hard to define.

It can be across the table at dinner, or while he is sitting working at his desk. it migth be on our own, in a room with a crowd, or sitting down watching tv with the teens.

It might be there when he is getting back into bed in the morning…

But it is a look that says..

I want you and I want you now…

He has a look.

Aren’t I the lucky one….

Our baby was 15 year old on Monday.

Is it really 15 years ago that I held that precious newborn baby girl in my arms, blubbering nonsensically as I was SO sure that she was a he.. and saying, over and over, but she can’t be, she can’t be… and then blubbering even more because, deep down, I really wanted a daughter.

With our son, I just KNEW he was going to be a boy. In those days, you did not get told the sex of the baby. You had a routine ultrasound at 18 weeks but, even if you asked the sex, it was not revealed. Anyway, I just knew he was a he… and he was.

The second time around, I felt the same. I looked the same. Was so sure it was another boy. Even “saw” a little wee willie winkie during the scan.

The birth was quick. She arrived at eight minutes to midnight on her due date, in under two hours. The carefully worked out and much fought for home delivery, thrown out of the window at 11.15pm when the waters broke and contained meconium. A mad dash to the hospital in under ten minutes. It took me longer to walk from the car, to the Maternity ward, stopping every minute to breathe my way through a contraction. This baby was in a hurry to be born - I thought I was going to have it there, on the floor.

Rushed into the labour room, hooked up to monitors - strapped into a “medical” position - not able to walk around or squat or anything. Ten minutes of pushing - then the agony of being told NOT TO PUSH, the head poking out as they stuck a tube up her nose and sucked out all the goo from the nasal passages before any was breathed in..

And then being allowed to push and then the fuss and panic of a paedriatric check to ensure that the baby had not inhaled any of the stuff..

And then, this blood stained, vernix coated green goey baby, was plonked onto my chest - and the he was a she after all.

And I cried.

Despite the mess, and the goo, and the blood, she was the most beautiful daughter in the world.

And now, at 15 years old, she is still the most beautiful daughter in the world.

But, yet again, I am a little biased.

I AM her mother after all…….

Ed gave me a copy of this album for Christmas. It is by the Irish singer/songwriter called Damien Rice. I absolutely loved his first Album called “O” so he thought that I would like his new one. This time it is called “9″ - obviously titles of one syllable are the thing!

He was right……

I put it on as I was preparing our Christmas meal and this song reduced me to tears. I had to stop the vegetable chopping and go and find Ed for a big reassuring hug…

Listen to the words (play the song in the sidebar if you like) and then I will tell you why.

The Animals Were Gone by Damien Rice

Oh I know that I left you in places of despair
Oh I know that I love you, so please throw down your hair
At night I trip without you, and hope I don’t wake up
‘Cause waking up without you is like drinking from an empty cup

It was a bit crazy here in the run up to Christmas. With Father in Law being ill and not being as organised about Christmas as we should have been, our time together, when we had time together, revolved around getting Christmas and the Senior folks organised. Our quality time together was almost non existent. But there was one morning, the Friday before Christmas, was the one day that we had when did not have to get up with the children for School and, though we knew we had to finish off the shopping, there was no need to get up early.

So, what did I do? I got up at seven am and whilst I knew in the back of my mind that Ed wanted me to go back to bed, I did not go. I just was not in the mood. If I had gone back to bed, I would have wanted just to go back to sleep and I knew that this was not quite what Ed would have in mind! My head was thumping and all I needed that day was to develop a migraine and I just needed some time to myself. I really cherish the stillness of the house at that time in the morning. The traffic is usually light and the birds are often treating me to their morning songs. The only time I get to myself. Quite frankly, I just wanted to be left alone. Yes I knew what the consequence would be, but even the thought of a grumpy hubby did nothing to propel me back up those stairs.

So, why the tears? Why did the song affect me so?

Did we break the habit of a lifetime and have a huge row and end up being mad at each other? No. Nothing like that. When Ed got up and said that he was hoping I would go back to bed, and I told him why I didn’t, he said something to me that he has told me over and over before. He explained to me how much he hates waking up to an empty bed and, even though I know this, and have been told this so many times, this time, for some inexplicable reason, it actually dawned on me that he was deadly serious and that he really does suffer from me not being there. I actually felt his pain if that makes any sense.

SO imagine how I felt when, just two or three days later, I hear the words of this song….

“Cause waking up without you is like drinking from an empty cup”.

Who would not have filled up? As my tears flowed, I just wanted to keep that cup filled up for ever!

All to often I am touched by the beauty of a song, be it a lyric or the tune, or that inexpressible something that sends a shiver deep into that secret place where our emotions are stored and stirred. And this was just that occasion.

Has this ever happened to you?

Darling Ed. I will try. Honestly I will. I would love to be able to keep that cup filled up continually. Full to briming-over. But sometimes, it is just not practical. And sometimes, just sometimes, I just need that little bit of time and space to myself. But you know that anyway. Just like you know that I am your Rapunzel and will let my hair down for you, and you alone. I do love you so much you know! Full to briming-over.

I wanted not to have a shower this morning.

I wanted to keep you with me for as long as I could.

I wanted to feel the memory of your skin on mine.

I wanted to keep the indents and imprints of your love on my body.

I wanted to keep close to me the memory of the way your breath felt on my neck. The way your tongue felt on my lips, in my mouth.

I wanted to feel you on me.

I wanted to keep the smell of you, the taste of you with me.

I wanted to still feel your hands on my body. The way your fingers felt on me and in me. The feel of your nails on my back. Your palms on my shoulders. Your fingertips on my breasts.

I wanted to hold on to that hot, salty sweaty heat charged aroma of love and lust and sex and longing and wanting and finding and being sated.

I wanted to keep the hair that was tousled, matted by your hands and the bed and tangled as it dangled and swayed with the rhythyms and writhings of our bodies in motion.

I wanted to hold onto the sound of your breathing, merged with my whimpers and moans. The tiny little vocalisations of delight that escaped from you and the noisy explosions of pleasure that imploded from my every pore..

I wanted to remember the feeling of fire and ice, as my body and your body, molded and melted, as stiffness and softness joined together in a medly of delirious and delicious sensation. That feeling of bursting and thirsting and thrusting and grinding, culminating in that explosive crescendo of climax.

I wanted to remain naked and wear only the satisfied smile of the cat that got the cream.

But instead, I showered and dressed and brushed my hair, and left the house all spruced and fresh, taking with me only what I could keep locked away in my memory.

And a huge smile of course…

We are joined by an invisible golden thread.

I know that it is golden as the pure, refined glow of gold is the only colour it could be to do justice to its purpose. I know that it is invisible because no-one can see it.
I cannot see it - but I know that it is there.

It links us together.
It binds us together.
It holds us together.

As we go about our daily lives it keeps unfurling, unknotting, constantly holding and reminding.

It is with us when we are apart,
attached to each heart
a link in our separation.

It binds us together in times of closeness
a constant, comfortable tightness that
allows us to move freely and independently but continually reminding me where you are.

It holds us together in a tight knot of passion
looping and binding
searing and biting
pulling and tearing into our skin as the tightness increases and the loop is drawn in
and we become lassoed together,
bound together,
linked together,
held together,
the golden invisible thread
surrounding us like
a cacoon of silken web
totally enwrapped
totally enmeshed
totally one

and we remain like that,
bound,
linked
held

and then, the thread loosens slowly,
allowing for freedom of movement again
and
we remain joined,
by that invisible golden thread

that anchors my heart, my body, and my soul to you.

Poor Ed has had one heck of a day with work related issues….

So I am going to take over his 5 things challenge for him. He was very brave for getting involved - I am not sure that I could have done it….

I know it is cheating and that he is supposed to do five things He likes about himself but 20 things over four days is not bad going is it and even a certain lady, who instigated the whole thing, has had one day off.. so that’s ok then isn’t it? Isn’t it?

So, can I come up with five things I like about Ed that he has not already mentioned?

1. I like the way his hair curls around his collar when it grows. I wish he would not have his hair cut so often but he dislikes the curls himself so he keeps it very short. He always looks smart and well groomed.
2. I like the way he smells. I like the cologne he uses (but yet again I bought it for him). When he comes downstairs in the morning, fresh from his shower, he always smells so good. I also like the way he smells anyway. When we first got together, I used to ask him what after shave he used and he always said that he did not wear any – must have been those pherenomes working their magic. And , even though it sounds a tad gross, I like the way he smells when he wakes in the morning, before he hits the shower!.
3. I like the way he says my name.
4. I like his eyes. They are varying shades of bluey grey. Sometimes they are like reflected rain clouds, and sometimes like the sky itself. They are large and are framed by the most beautiful lashes (actually, our daughter has inherited those sweeping beauties from him - I am dead jealous!). I feel that I need only look into his eyes and I know exactly what he is feeling at that time. They are very expressive.
5. I like the way that he always puts the needs and requirements of other people before himself. His care and concern for his parents is something he may mention in passing but it is such an admirable quality that he is far too modest to boast about. He is so patient and caring that it is humbling. He is amazing.

Well, that is five. I could have gone on and mentioned other things I like such as the way his skin turns so brown in the slightest ray of sun, the admirable work he does for the charity we are Trustees of, the low belly chuckle that makes me want to join in with him (and often do!), his hunky shoulders, and his appreciation of art, poetry and literature but this could get a little long.
So I will end off here.

I hope you like my list. I suppose there is the slight possibility that I am a little bit biased but I am just so blessed that even now, after being married for twenty two years and together for over twenty five years, that there are still so many things about him that I do like.

Thank you for indulging me. OK Ed, you can stop blushing now and come out from hiding behind that computer screen. I have finished!!!!

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)

i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

ee cummings

Well, they say you learn something new every day and, whilst I am familiar with some of the works of this author, I did not actually know he was American. Ed introduced me to his poems a long time ago…. I was looking for the one cummings wrote about Spring, to put on the blog as the sun was actually shining enough for me to feel reassured that perhaps Spring was actually close at hand - despite the date… and I came across this one which I had not read before. I think it is beautiful…..

So please allow me to share it with you and to indulge me when I say that this is for my lovely husband, who has looked after me so well over the last few weeks, and, whose heart I carry in my own, all the time.