A Glimpse of Eternity in My Fridge

It is the last week of January.

I can tell because the oranges on my trees are ripe and ready for juicing.

It is the last week of January.

I can tell because David took calls all night long, all weekend long from the hospital.  They are busy and so is he.

It is the last week of January.

I can tell because my body has its own special kind of pain it serves when I am stressed and last night it was in rare form.  After the holidays and a brief reprieve, the stress is mounting.  The last week of January is always the week when reality hits (I committed to what? when?) and panic sets in.

It is the last week of January.

On Thursday, Rachel came for lunch.  (Well, technically, Rachel brought lunch but I hosted and provided plates and water bottles.  Scratch that.  I think it was just water bottles.  But that's something, right?)

At the end of the conversation the FedEx man arrived with a package full of transporter swabs.  Rachel said, "Oh, it must be that time of year."

Indeed.  It is the last week of January and science fair is upon us again.

Caleb and I spent a good part of our Saturday preparing petri dishes for their little colonies.  Water baths and bleached countertops and rows upon rows of future prokaryotic houses.  I had to clean out the fridge, which I found amusing.  Cleaned out the fridge to make room for bacteria.  Reminded me of my college days and the fridge full of cow hearts and the freezer full of dead insects I used to keep before they saw the knife or the pin.  Hard to believe I'm still friends with those roommates, huh?

On Saturday night David and I went to dinner and after I talked his ear off about my writing class he asked me again, "Now why weren't you an English major?"

I shrugged, as baffled as he.

But this morning as I drove Caleb around town and acted as instructor and assistant as he collected aseptic samples of the bacterial flora at different offices, I thought there might have been a reason after all.

Perhaps only so that someday I could mother this particular boy in this particular way on this particular last week of January.

It is the last week of January.

I can tell because this morning I remembered that nothing happens by accident.