Life lately sounds like sharp cries for hunger, and wails of protest upon water touching a tiny face. Days are filled with the drone of a fan, only mildly successful in saving us from the sweltering heat. Life lately sounds like nursery rhymes and lullabies, happy, high-pitched voices and cooing responses.
Life lately tastes sweet–like halo-halo and iced cream so often craved as a momentary remedy for rising temperatures, like the mangoes that make lunch so much better.
Life lately smells like rubbing alcohol, oil and sweat; like the breath and skin of a newborn–distinct, delicate, delicious. The house has Rey’s cooking wafting through the air, and coffee shared in the morning–rituals we will not so frequently have once I get back to work.
Life lately looks like the clock being watched for the last feeding, the last diaper change, the last nap. Time is both slow and quick, chores are both easy and laborious.
Life lately feels like gentle kisses on chubby cheeks, like a solid weight on one’s arms, like sore muscles and heavy eyelids. Open, toothless smiles on an angel’s face make this life feel oh so light.
Life lately is a war between wanting to get through and staying in the moment. It is a phase of healing and reconnecting, both in body and in bonds. It is building routine, constant worrying about what’s normal, and relentless praying that everything is as it should be.
Life lately is centered on a fresh new life we brought forth, and life as we knew it will never be the same.