The Crucifix
Pour faire un bon mariage, il faut que le mari soit sourd et la femme aveugle...
I remember the first time Johanna saw the cross hanging from around my neck. The long parts were still clean but like any object of affection, when rubbed the wrong way against sweaty flesh, time will only tarnish it. Nothing is that perfect or clean, even a simple gold crucifix on a small gold chain. She smiled fondly at me in an almost innocent way as her tiny fingers adjusted the clasp, bringing it around to the back of my neck.
"Make a wish," she whispered into my ear in French as her warm breath, teased my ear and trickled down my neck in the gentle way only a women can make the simplest words a temptation. I grabbed the cross and adjusted it in my hand, settling it to just above my heart where it had always been for years before this moment. She probably knew that many women before her had touched it or had it dragged between their cleavage, picking up the sweat from between our bodies as I rose over them to kiss their waiting, pink mouths.
And it's such a simple piece of jewelry but I always wear it. I believe that it's good luck. It keeps me safe on the days when I streak by other cars at 210 km/h and it's been with me in all the breaking points of my life.
My phone vibrated on the table in patio and it startled me, not simply because of the sound it made as the rain stopped but because it was my wife who usually leaves me alone in the afternoons while she naps. She told me that we would be heading to Montréal on holiday because she felt it would be a good time for her to learn about the city I call my home, meet my friends, most likely do some shopping. And in that moment, I felt like I knew the summer was winding down as Patrice would be leaving too.
I was sent into a flurry of emotions what whipped my head back into reality. What if it would be like it was before? You should always have something to connect the parts of your life. With my wife, she has my ring and she's about to bear my child. But Patrice? I immediately thought of the crucifix that dangled from my neck. He should have one to protect him and maybe we're just going home but we'll share the moment I give him one. And the tumbling that will happen afterwards, the spilling of emotions and the tangle of limbs will all accumulate to the one thing we never had before. A moment of just us.
I remember the first time Johanna saw the cross hanging from around my neck. The long parts were still clean but like any object of affection, when rubbed the wrong way against sweaty flesh, time will only tarnish it. Nothing is that perfect or clean, even a simple gold crucifix on a small gold chain. She smiled fondly at me in an almost innocent way as her tiny fingers adjusted the clasp, bringing it around to the back of my neck.
"Make a wish," she whispered into my ear in French as her warm breath, teased my ear and trickled down my neck in the gentle way only a women can make the simplest words a temptation. I grabbed the cross and adjusted it in my hand, settling it to just above my heart where it had always been for years before this moment. She probably knew that many women before her had touched it or had it dragged between their cleavage, picking up the sweat from between our bodies as I rose over them to kiss their waiting, pink mouths.
And it's such a simple piece of jewelry but I always wear it. I believe that it's good luck. It keeps me safe on the days when I streak by other cars at 210 km/h and it's been with me in all the breaking points of my life.
My phone vibrated on the table in patio and it startled me, not simply because of the sound it made as the rain stopped but because it was my wife who usually leaves me alone in the afternoons while she naps. She told me that we would be heading to Montréal on holiday because she felt it would be a good time for her to learn about the city I call my home, meet my friends, most likely do some shopping. And in that moment, I felt like I knew the summer was winding down as Patrice would be leaving too.
I was sent into a flurry of emotions what whipped my head back into reality. What if it would be like it was before? You should always have something to connect the parts of your life. With my wife, she has my ring and she's about to bear my child. But Patrice? I immediately thought of the crucifix that dangled from my neck. He should have one to protect him and maybe we're just going home but we'll share the moment I give him one. And the tumbling that will happen afterwards, the spilling of emotions and the tangle of limbs will all accumulate to the one thing we never had before. A moment of just us.