and baby makes 6!

Nothing will ever match the sweetness

As usual, I could see Bill ahead of me, his legs moving smoothly and strongly. We were on a bike ride and it was a beautiful day. Not a bright,sunny, blue skies burning kind of beautiful. It was actually cloudy, hot and muggy. Texas coast muggy. The beauty was in how vivid all the colors were. It was surreal. The greens were so deep and varied and the wildflowers had grown waist high with all the rain we have been getting. I have never seen so many gorgeous wildflowers. Did I mention the green? It was like someone Photoshopped the landscape and I was riding my bike through velvet.

I was about 1/8 mile behind Bill when I saw him stop, get off his bike, walk it to the edge of the road and lay it on its side. He walked into the wildflowers and bent over with his hands on his knees. My heart stopped beating. It looked like he was getting sick. I was already spent physically from our ride, but a burst of energy called panic had me standing up in the pedals and pounding up the hill towards him. It was uphill, and I swear I was going about 17mph or more , straight up it. Fight or flight, baby.

My mind was racing to horrible thoughts such as ruptured aneurysm, stroke….you name it. He had been sick all week, even successfully warding off a migraine. It was just like the last time, when he had the stroke. Same symptoms, but then again he has had them come and go all year, so why was I in such a panic? Well, it had also been one year to the day since he had experienced his stroke. Happy anniversary, honey.

I pounded up the hill. God, not now. Not yet. Not here.

Then I saw him stoop and reach into the brambles repeatedly, each time pulling back and touching his other hand. Huh?

As I neared him he straighted up and started to walk toward me. I breathlessly got off my bike as he reached me. Glancing at his hand, I saw plump, ebony berries staining his bike glove. He picked one up and placed it into my mouth and kissed me. The wind blew around us, bending the golden grass. Then he said knowingly “You really made it up that hill fast. What were you thinking?” I replied, “I was thinking you were getting sick. It looked like you were getting sick.”

The berry was as surreal as the colors painting the landscape. It was warm and the sweetness exploded in my mouth. How could one berry have so much juice in it?

We clipped back onto our bikes and started back home. Another uphill, a straight away, and then a long downhill. I peddled all the way down, my speed reaching 30mph. The taste of that dewberry was fresh in my mouth. The wind screeched past my face, snatching my sobs and whisking them away behind me. Post-stress anxiety, plus a huge helping of relief and thankfulness.

Thank you God, for that special moment with Bill, and for the blessing of one more day. Thank you for that dewberry.

Nothing will ever come close to the sweetness of that one berry on that hot afternoon.