Sunday, 28 May 2006

The chorus of sighs.

This morning was the first time I braved Jacob's Sunday early service since 'the incident' and I knew it would be a long morning but I wanted to thank people in person for the food and the prayers and the babysitting too. I can't gloss over it yet, I have to keep wearing the sling and thanks to my pale complexion the bruises have turned a fabulously icky shade of brown. I've been wearing scarves to hide the ones on my neck. It's absolutely unsettling to see Cole's complete handprint burned into my throat like this and yet scarves are so warm in the muggy weather. In my haste to get inside away from the wind and the approaching storm I left my sweater in the car, I was hot anyway.

Jacob was halfway through his sermon and he had walked back up near the choir benches and he turned and paused a beat and then he continued and started to remove his jacket (I'll digress here, he's got this worn-out moss green pinwhale cord suit jacket, he practically lives in it when he's working) and while he was talking about the sadness and ecstasy of moments in our past giving us a fresh spiritual outlook (! chills) he walked down to me and put the jacket around my shoulders. Then he smiled and ran his hand down my hair and then turned and walked down toward the back of the church, still talking while the collective sigh rose up from almost every woman in the sanctuary.

When he was finished he mentioned that he just couldn't have anyone in his congregation sitting and listening to him with blue lips. He then called for people to offer a half dozen sweaters or jackets that would be kept in the coat closets in case anyone needed them for the heat is now off for the summer but the weather is not cooperating. And because he only has one of those jackets. Cue the grin and a sprinkling of laughter.

He's so smooth.

I didn't give him his coat back when we left because I have a thing about his coats. They smell like him, like sandalwood and patchouli. Intoxicating. Like him.