Stopped By The Sun

“The sun is bright. It’s got a lot of light. So much so, it lights up our whole world. It also lights up the other worlds that orbit it. It brings more life to our planet than any other in our galaxy. And at night, when the sun goes to sleep, if we look up in the sky, we can see billions of other suns giving life to what could be millions of other Earths. It’s beautiful. But it’s also sad. 

“It’s sad because one day, when you and I are long gone, and the people we know and love cease to exist, the sun will go dark. When the sun goes, so will our Earth. And so will the other planets that neighbor our Earth. Our home will no longer be our home. The life we lived won’t matter. And everything we ever were, and all the good we’ve ever tried doing, will be forgotten by the universe. It’s inevitable. But it’s life. 

“Now, I’m not telling you this to scare you. That’s the last thing I want to do. I’m telling you this so that every morning when you wake up and open your curtains to welcome the sun, you’re reminded to live your life as best as you can. Don’t let the falls that make you bleed, the people that make you hurt, the politics that try to govern your life, take any part of living away from you. Make your life your own.”  

I reached into my sleeping daughter's crib and brushed the small wisp of hair that was sticking straight up on the top of her head. I smiled as I caressed her cheek and leaned down to kiss her head. 

“I love you so much,” I whispered. 

I stood back upright, picked my work bag up off the floor and slung it over my left shoulder, and started for her bedroom door. As I reached for the knob, I heard a faint whimper start from my daughter’s crib. I turned my head back and smiled. 

“You’re supposed to be asleep, nugget.”

I walked back over to the crib and looked down at her once again. Her eyes were still closed, but her whimpers were starting to turn into a cry. I glanced at the princess clock that perched on the edge of her changing table. It read 6:15. 

“I’ve got some time, babygirl,” I said, unwrapping her bright pink swaddle. 

I pulled the swaddle off of my daughter and was treated to the cutest little baby stretches you’d ever seen. Followed by a grunt and one or two little baby toots. My smile grew. 

I picked up the little burrito filling and rested her head on my shoulder, and walked with her downstairs to the kitchen. By the time I’d reached the bottom step, she was almost awake, gripping the sleeves of my shirt like if she let go she’d fall. I’d never let that happen. Rubbing her back to comfort her, I made it to the kitchen and started digging through the cabinets for a clean bottle.

After a few tries, I found one hidden in the back of one of the cabinets behind a few miscellaneous baby toys we’d kept there just to keep out of the way. I filled the bottle with milk, warmed it up, and started feeding her. The kitchen light started flickering. 

There’s a new chore, I thought to myself as I made my way back upstairs. 

By the time I reached the top, the bottle was almost empty and the kid was almost back to sleep. “You have your dad’s appetite, nugget.” I chuckled to myself.

Before I laid her back down, I placed her back on my shoulder and patted her back. She burped twice, then, pushing herself up with one hand and using the other, rubbed her eyes. Time to go back to sleep. 

I laid her back down on the swaddle and wrapped her into the cutest little burrito I ever made. Her eyes were shut tight and the only movement she made was from her soft breathing. 

“Okay nugget,” I glanced at the princess clock again; 6:40, “daddy has to go work.” I made sure her night light was still on and securely plugged into the wall. Making sure my bag was still strapped to my shoulder, I made my way to the door again. Slowly, I pulled the door open, walked out, and closed it with the knob still turned so it wouldn’t click when it shut. I put my ear up to the door and listened for any more baby noises. 

When I was sure she was fully asleep, I walked across the hall to kiss my wife one more time. I didn’t make it. From the baby’s room, I heard soft whimpers quickly turn into a full cry. Not wanting to wake up my wife, I quickly walked back in to check on her. The smell lingering above her crib was rancid. 

“Uh-oh!” I exclaimed, unwrapping the stinky burrito again, “I should’ve checked your diaper, huh?”       

The cries quickly turned into laughing as I undid her onesie and opened up her diaper. I pulled my shirt up over my nose, “Oh, you think this is funny, don’t you? Well, you wait until you have to change your own baby’s diaper, Heaven forbid.” Thinking about her all grown up was already starting to make me emotional. 

I quickly changed her diaper--holding both legs tightly as she tried kicking whenever I’d go to wipe--re-buttoned her onesie, and swaddled her back up. I rocked her in my arms until eventually she went back to sleep. I smiled again. 

“Okay nugget, this time you have to stay asleep.” I glanced at the clock again. 6:55. “Yeah, daddy definitely has to get going, sweetheart.” I kissed her one time and made a stealthy escape back into the hallway. 

I made my way across the hall and into my own bedroom where my wife was dead asleep, drooling off the side of the bed. I kissed her forehead, avoiding the sleepy saliva, and made my way back downstairs to the front door. I twisted the lock and was about to step out when I heard it again. 

I’d just seen how asleep my wife was and didn’t know how long the burrito would have to cry before the sleep-zombie finally woke up. My heart started to ache just thinking about it. I sighed and made my way back inside, dropping my bag at the door, and back up the stairs to the baby’s room. 

I looked at the clock as soon as I opened the door. 7:08. “Okay, ma’am, I’m already late for work. What’s the matter?”

I stood over her crib and was welcomed by a warm smile and a very awake baby. I picked her up, this time leaving her in her wrap, and started rocking her. My daughter looked up at me, smiling wide and giggling softly. I couldn’t help but giggle back. 

“Isn’t this supposed to sooth you back to sleep? Those baby books lied,” I joked. 

I sat myself down in the rocking chair in the corner of the room and picked up one of the books we’d started reading to her the night before to get her sleep. 

“The Very Hungry Caterpillar,” I read the title aloud. “Hmm, reminds me of someone I know. 

The nugget giggled again. 

I started reading the book. Page one. Then quickly to page two. Then page three. Then….

“Honey?” I jerked my head up, confused and disoriented. “Why aren’t you at work?”

I shook my head and looked around the room until my eyes came across my wife standing in front of me. “The baby kept waking up. I wanted you to sleep.” I looked down to make sure I was still holding my daughter. I was. Her eyes were shut tight and the only movement she made was from her soft breathing.

I glanced at the clock again. 9:27. 

The sun was peeking through the blinds, lighting up half of the room. I stood up from the rocking chair and walked over to the crib. I gently put her down, kissed her one more time and said, “Good morning, Aurora.”