I want to remember this night.

As I sit here, out on my back step, soaking in what remains of the warm weather from the day. It’s 1:37 a.m. and 63 degrees. I’m breathing in the last of this warmth while I can and savoring it, with Murphy by my side.

Hard to imagine that by this time tomorrow night, supposedly, ice and snow will be here.

I want to remember this night for another reason. As the last night I will go to sleep not knowing what is about to come in my life — a son or a daughter.

I want to remember the warm breeze and the fresh air and the way the Christmas lights gently swayed in the wind, so I can tell my child one day, about the night before I partially knew who they were going to be and how my life would never be the same.

It’s hard to fall asleep on a night like tonight. My daughter or my son. It will become so much more real to me after tomorrow, or I should say, later today. In a mere 13 hours.

I always find it fascinating how day to day life seems so … ordinary at times, generic, for lack of a better word. Nothing much seems to be happening. And then you have these days and moments thrown in, when you are reminded that you are in the midst of something big, something defining.

I believe every day is defining and big, we, or I,  just tend to forget this. And it’s nights like tonight when it all comes back to me and I feel overwhelmed with thankfulness that I get to play a part in it … and that I have a living reflection of me now who gets to be a part, too.

I like to think FOH decided to come back for the candy and the good human touch, too. I’d say quite noble reasons for an Earthly return.