My thoughts lingered on his dark blonde hair and eyes the color of the eastern sky with tiny flecks of gold in them. I imagined those eyes alight with joy and I wanted to be the sculptor of that joy. The memory of his hands played through my mind like a symphony. They must be the hands of a pianist or perhaps a painter. I would have to wait to find out. Only time would tell. Due to the circumstances it would be a long time before our next encounter. Patience became my guide word. There was a lot to do. Everything had to be perfect for that day, and the sooner I got started the better. This was no time for procrastination.
~
I postponed telling my daughter, Gabriella, about him. All in due time. However, she knew something was going on and the curiosity of a four-year-old will not be ignored. I was apprehensive about her reaction; had been just her and me for so long, but as usual, she surprised me with her perception and maturity. Instead of resenting the fact that someone she didn't know might eventually be sharing our lives, she expressed only excitement and curiosity. Her first question was, "Mommy, do you think he will like me?" I assured her he would indeed like her very much and in time would love her every bit as much as I did. With her usual zest she began planning outings for the three of us including picnics where she would share her favorite peanut butter and banana sandwiches with him. She also expressed the hope that he would let her tag along if he went to a ball game or maybe a movie. We talked about a lot of things like how many more presents there would be at Christmas and how we would have to get an extra chair for our tiny kitchen table. When I first told my parents about him my father smiled and my mother scoffed saying, "Leave it to you Marilyn. What next?" But, bless him, daddy understood.
~
It was obvious early on that we would have to move to a larger place. The apartment that Gabriella and I shared was small and would not do for three people. Most of my family were supportive but my mother thought thought I was acting prematurely, and as usual, chastised me with remarks of my compulsiveness; accusing me of being obsessed with the notion of this yet unknown to her person. My mother in particular, who would not be remembered as ever being subtle, said to me during dinner one night, "For heaven's sake, Marilyn, how do you know this will really happen? You are acting in your usual irrational romantic way. There's no need to uproot Gabriella from everything and put both of you through a move. The place you have is just fine. Gabriella likes it there and you have good neighbors. Why don't you wait to see how things turn out?"
~
"Oh Mom," I thought, "how out of touch you are." I seldom paid heed to my mother's rantings. I was used to them. She only saw things from her point of view and was the queen of criticism. But, I loved her; she meant well.
~
We had been looking for the better part of three weeks and then one Sunday afternoon we found it. It was just perfect. There was a small backyard that would be sunny in the mornings and provide shade for the afternoons and early evenings. There were several large trees and the front had nice landscaping. A front porch ran the length of the house and was perfect for an old-fashioned porch swing, some wicker furniture and lots and lots of plants in big tubs.
~
Gabriella ran around the yard laughing and briming with excitement. She spotted the tree she wanted me to hang a swing from. That I would do. It was an old house but had been well maintained. The rooms were small, but there were three bedrooms, a small study, one bathroom complete with tub and shower and another with an ancient claw foot tub that had been lovingly cared for and that I adored. The kitchen was small but adequate and large enough for a breakfast table and chairs. There was a large window over the sink that overlooked the backyard. The sun would come in the mornings making the room cheerful and bright and the window sill was perfect for growing herbs. The living room had a small fireplace and an alcove for a dining area that would be just right for intimate and family gatherings. I was in love with all of it, the rent was affordable and included utilities. I signed the lease without trepidation.
~
Five days later, with the help of friends who owned a small truck, we moved our personal belongings and the few pieces of furniture we'd accumulated. It was all second hand, things we'd been given or found at moving or yard sales. The divorce had left us with nothing but our suitcases. I came home from having lunch with a friend one day to find our home stripped clean exept for our clothes, and Gabriella sitting on the front porch crying.
~
By being very frugal I was able to furnish our new place in a comfortable eclectic fashion. I made endless trips to my parent's basement, thrift stores, accepted any and all cast offs from friends. My trips to garage and yard sales were endless. The old sewing machine a friend gave me was put to good use making slip covers and curtains. And, I finished a latch hook rug I started two years before that would look nice in front of the small fireplace. I taught myself how to make decorative pillows from old discarded draperies stuffing them with the cotton from an old worn out mattress I'd found. We sanded and painted tables, chairs, and planter boxes and had many laughs over dribbled paint and smudges on noses. I dubbed the decor "early yard sale". When it was completed it was a warm and welcoming home. The rent was affordable, and the house was just down the street from the elementary school where Gabrielle would go next year.
~
My thoughts kept drifting to him. I wanted to hold him, to kiss him, to show him in every way how much I love him. It was made more difficult to keep my mind on the tasks at hand because of Garbiella's excitement. I'd seen him. She never had. I'd drift off to peaceful sleep each night envisioning our future together. And my dreams were filled with him. Sweet, excited, enticing dreams. I'd awake in the morning refreshed and ready to take on another day of preparation and patient waiting.
~
I'd always been know as an excellent cook and some of my friends began to hire me to bake cakes for special occasions, to cater small luncheons or dinner parties for them, and in about two months I'd be doing a small wedding reception. One close friend even mentioned the possibility of me starting a catering business. Things were definitely beginning to look up.
~
The waiting would soon be over. Soon, very soon, I would see him again. At first I had kept so busy that time flew by. One day I realized that the anticipation was part of the joy and time was moving too fast. I then made a conscious effort to slow things down. Gabriella and I spent many an afternoon going for long walks, taking our lunch to the nearby park, or working in the garden. We had a vegetable garden started we'd done from seed and little sprouts were beginning to show. I got perennial cuttings from my parent's and friend's yards and most had taken root. Dad had divided the bulbs in his yard this year and he gave me the bounty which was stored for fall planting. With time we'd have a lovely yard.
~
We spent many evenings going over our music collection trying to decide what type of music he'd like. We finally decided he'd be most fond of the classics. Our CD player, I'd fortunately found at a garage sale along with our CD collection, was going continually and the house was filled with the sounds of Bach, Beethoven, Mozart, Tchaikovsky, and a little classical jazz now and then for good measure.
~
The long wait was over. The day had come. It was raing on and off. When the rain occasionaly stopped, the bright blue sky would peek out from behind cherub clouds and wink at me as if it knew my secret. I was overwhelmed with excitement and had to concentrate to keep my heart rate steady. Deep breaths, lots of deep breath. The excitement was compounded by Gabriella jumping up and down and yelling over and over, "Mommy, how much longer? Is it time to go yet? How much longer Mommy? I can't wait to meet him.  What's his name?"
~
"His name is Jonathan honey. Not John or Johnny, just like you're not Gaby. His name is Jonathan. Be patient my precious, it won't be long now."
~
With the rain coming and going the streets were slick and I wasn't taking any chances. I couldn't be late so we took a taxi. The place where we would meet had been decided upon months before. When we arrived to my surprise my mom and dad were there also. My father was beaming his usual unconditional loving smile and there was my mother with her ever present expression of disapproval overshadowing her weak smile. I paused for a moment, took a deep breath and walked through the door Gabriella clutching my hand. My mother's first words to me on that day were, "That child shouldn't be here to witness this."
~
I prayed he didn't run into any difficulty getting here and eased my worries by visualizing his journey. The rest is mostly a blur. I remember the anticipation, Gabriella's excitement and her gasp when she saw him for the first time, "Mommy look! It happened just like you said it would. Look Mommy, he's here. He's really here. Jonathan is here!"
~
What had seemed like an endless wait was over. I reached out my arms, kissed him softly, and with a heart overflowing with love whispered in his ear, "Welcome to our world my son."