What has gone by and What more is to come

by nomeatbarefeet

The sun light filled the room and I tried desperately to fall back asleep. I looked at the clock. 6:20. I flipped away from the illuminated window and closed my eyes. What seemed like an hour turned out to be only fifteen minutes. I closed my eyes again; five minutes. There would be, it seemed, no more sleep. The day was calling me to awake. I shifted back and Arlo slinked towards me from the foot of the bed. Resting his weight on my chest I looked up at him. His eyes, so expressive, staring down at me, seemed to say, “Get up.” Of course, his eyes always said that in the morning; and if they didn’t, then his persistent licking would surely keep me from trying to fall back asleep.

I dressed. Poured a half cup of coffee and drank it. Put the leash on Arlo, and stepped out into the morning air. The sky was a misty blue, but held the promise of changing to a deeper color. The air was crisp, but held the promise of warmth. Across the street. Up the sidewalk to the top of the hill.

So much has brought me to this moment. This “now” is years in the making, and I tried to think about what the next 24 hours would bring. “Was I ready? Had I done enough? Was there more I could or should have done?” The what ifs swirled inside my head, but I knew they were toothless monsters. What little more I could do would not change anything. I had set myself upon the path that brought me to this moment, and I could not inject it with any more knowledge, courage, calmness, or preparedness. I was where I was; I was as prepared as I could be. Embrace it.

Around the bend and back to the apartment. Arlo trotted by my side, every so often looking back at me. The morning light hit the side of my face, washing me with warmth. I felt anxious and nervous. But the future held so much promise, so much potential, so much unknown. I could not have imagined (when this journey began), that I would be here, on this street, in this town, in this very moment, so close to the end. I know what tomorrow brings, but I do not know what tomorrow brings. Things have turned out the way that they have, and I am excited to find out what other moments and what other “now”s there will be.

I turned up the driveway, closing one eye for the sunlight streaming through the trees. I walked to the door, stopped, and took one more second to feel the chill of the air on my skin, the subtle bite in my lungs…then I stepped inside and closed the door.