The beauty of mountains cast early morning shadows as the highway weaves upward toward a single triangle to form a perfect peak. The tip nearly touches the sky of cotton clouds, dove gray with hints of slate blue. And, although I’m enveloped in a valley of beauty unsurpassed, sadness descends. I’ve just left my ‘Babies of Two.’
Sprinkles of rain begin to fall. Slowly at first, then faster. Windshield wipers wave from right to left or left to right. Both, if you will. Rubber blades swipe across a window of glass to mimic miniature squeegees. My eyes follow back and forth while ears tune to sounds surrounding my space within doors and glass and leather.
Droplets of water fall on our metal rooftop, “ting-ting.” Splatters of wet on a windshield, “ping-ping.” The revving of car engines, ours and many others as we climb higher up the mountain. My ears begin to pop!
Trees become thicker. Pines remain dark emerald and full forever, reminding me of bottle brushes, while neighboring natives are naked, barren to the elements. Branches of some surprise me with colors of leftover fall. Leaves dipped in burgundy red or burnished gold speckled in chocolate call to me.
It’s been quite a ‘ride’ these last few days. Blessed to be visiting friends and family over the holidays.
My son and daughter-in-law are settled into their lovely new home. Happiness floats in the air. Huge hugs with kisses on cheeks. At first glance, a toddler of two barrels toward the knees of Grandpa. “Crappa,” she shouts with glee!
Then I see them there. Gummy smiles with surprises of new front teeth. Seed pearls discovered in pink sand. Magic land. Two on top and one below…X 2. Sitting atop her mother’s lap is a squirming babe topped with a moppet of jet black hair.
Below, on the walnut colored wooden floor is a second bundle. She’s crawling now, wearing footed pajamas with rubber soles. Fuzzy and pink with bottoms of white feet. Contrary to her “sissy,” tufts of strawberry blonde hair are barely there.
Twins, my ‘Babies of Two.’
Enormous eyes of green and two of blue beg, “Pick me up!” My husband reaches for one while I lift the other. Warm cuddles of close. Closer still. Gentle squeezes. Open kisses shaped like the moon. Drool and dribble. Tiny fingers pinch and pull to explore familiar faces. Wiggles and giggles. Teardrops fall upon flowered bibs snapping behind eyes gazing in wonder.
My heart is open wide to catch every ABC love letter for the next few days. Far too soon we must part ways. Thanksgiving, 1st birthdays and an early Christmas are celebrated day after day after day. Tomorrow tugs at the lobe of my right ear. Reddened from rubbing between thumb and forefinger. Tomorrow is so very near.
Today, tomorrow is here. Goodbyes are said. Tears are shed. One last kiss from a toddler plus cradled cuddles with ‘Babies of Two.’ Steps, measured and slow taken reluctantly toward a front door painted black until it is finally closed.
“I going to miss you, Crappa.”