That’s what they called the day before Operation Neptune, the Normandy Landings.
While not quite of scale with that historic day, today is our D-1 for little Cohen. The day that some oracular M.D. fortells the coming of our next child. And while I’ve never really considered the due-date any real go/no-go kind of thing, it does carry with it a feeling of a “line” being crossed. Some arbitrary boundary before which things are “on time” and after which things feel “late.” Silly, really, but as humans we like such milestones and markers – we crave measurement. So tomorrow is our measurement spot, as finger-in-the-wind as it may be, and we are indeed waiting for it like it means something.
And with this date so close that “walls closing in” feeling I wrote about a few days ago is only growing stronger. It seems like each day the house actually get less and less in order. Between me making a mess of things building a closet in Cohen’s room and just the crush of new baby-things from showers and hand-me-downs, and down to the slowed-pace of general upkeep – the place is in dire need of some cleanup. And with the hours ticking away (even if measured against that arbitrary mark) the outlook for a nice tidy homecoming for Cohen is bleak. On the other side of the domestic coin, work has been oppressive of late. I don’t know why ugly management issues tend to rise up and bristle when they do – but now is not the time. Add to that a dash of busy-as-fire and I’m close to running away.
So Cohen, I can’t wait to lose myself in your newness once you’re here. Not because you’re my escape from this stuff, but because you’ll just add another weight on that “life” side of the work vs. life scales. And we’re ready for you anytime: clean house, dirty house, work issues, whatever. Take away all the deadlines and waiting and it’s just our quick and simple prayer that you’re healthy and happy – and that’s about it.