I started my day hearing giggling coming from the other room. I didn’t dare to move as happy sounds haven’t been around our house lately, so I just sat in bed, facing the wall and enjoyed the music playing in my ears. I listened to them talk and laugh and finally decided to join the fun, so I jumped out of bed and headed towards the door. My daughter’s smile lit up the hallway as she was running towards me to give me the best hug I could have possibly wanted.
What came next was like the silence that a storm leaves behind after it passes, that moment when you are not sure if to smile or expect a new wave of thunders to scream out of the sky. But the thunders were nowhere to be heard, so we enjoyed our long forgotten ritual and went out together for cappuccino. As I was holding Ephia in my lap, watching her sip her milk foam from the little cup the bartender has reserved only for her, I knew this is going to be a good day. The house is weirdly quiet now and the only sounds that can be heard are the occasional giggles coming from her room as she is making her toys perform for her. I’ve missed those sounds and I’ve missed her being happy and pain free.
And as the afternoon will go play in another part of the world until tomorrow, and she will have napped and I will have read a good book, we will feel the need to make this day a special one and what better place to celebrate then a quiet, monumental one in the company of people like us. Like I was saying yesterday, this evening’s sunset will catch me holding a glass of white wine in my hand, smiling and listening to other people’s stories.