james

he's strong and calm and steady. when our fridge broke, when our sump broke. when our air conditioner broke, all at once that one summer- he stayed calm.
driving through the mountains of west virginia in a snow storm, in the middle of the night, with two sleeping babies in the backseat, he stayed calm.
when i was in labor and wanting an epidural and there was no one available to give it to me, and then ready to give birth and the doctor on call didn't make it to the hospital on time, he was calm. we didn't find out if we were having a boy or girl, and when the nurse said "your daughter is here" i had to look at him and i asked him if we were dreaming.
and now, during a global pandemic- he's calm.

i am taking into account all the little details that make him who he is. the way he bites his lower lip when he's thinking. i watch him while he drives, the trees behind him blurring through the window and his lower lip in his mouth.

all the parts that make him who he is that only i know. like the fingernail on his left hand that he cracked and it never healed properly. or the way his left ear is missing a little bit of cartilage at the top. or the freckles that cover his shoulder, the ones i kiss every time i see them.

and the parts of him emotionally that no one sees. the way he smiles so big that he almost cries when something makes him happy enough. or the way he cried into my shoulder that one afternoon in the bathroom, our kids were eating lunch at the kitchen table outside the door, and he leaned into me and cried.

or the one morning when i called him from work in a panic and he came home immediately. we sat on the living room floor and he said no matter what happens, we'd be okay. and he was right.

i often think about the morning i was going to be induced with our son. on the way to the hospital we held hands quietly. we packed our bags like we were going on vacation. we were driving into another life, we just didn't realize it yet. but in the midst of anxiousness and uncertainty, what was there, and what still remains with him, is the quiet buzz of rightness when he is around.