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  • Writer's pictureJessica Urlichs

Dear Husband (The Future Can Wait)

Updated: Aug 21, 2022

Dad and daughter in the kitchen photo by Sam Ivey

Dear Husband,

There’s a life in the future with little faces in photo frames instead of before our eyes,

artwork and ABC magnets won’t adorn our fridge, and these old leggings I’m wearing right now will be long gone.

There’s a bed big enough, where little elbows and knees won’t prod us in our sleep, and only our feet will swing out in the morning.

There’s a vase placed in reach of little arms because there aren’t any, and mugs will daringly sit on the edge of the table.

There’s a bank balance that looks a bit more forgiving, a bag I leave with that isn’t overflowing, and it will only take us 10 seconds from the door to the car.

There’s a free calendar that isn’t packed with swimming lessons, dance classes and muddy sports shoes. And we’ll get to know each other for a third time, before them, with them, and then when only two jackets hang at the door.

There’s a clean car, the only noise is the hum of the radio. There will be no endless questions in a high pitched voice from the back seat, there may even be days we don’t hear from them at all.

There’s a date night with no curfew, my mums not needed for babysitting, and we aren’t sleeping with one eye open waiting for the shuffle of feet down the hallway. A type of freedom that feels heavy.

There’s a house that’s clean, maybe our couch is new, and we aren’t stepping on Lego or toy cars either. In fact there’s not much colour anywhere, remember how we hated all the colour? Remember how it came with so much happiness?

There’s a dinner table that feels big, we aren’t negotiating bites of vegetables or wiping little hands and mouths. But sometimes there’s a knock on the door and the table is full once more.

There’s a shower that doesn’t sound like baby cries, a coffee that is warm and my body will be my own. We won’t wear tired the same way but time will have aged us anyway.

There will be hard moments to come that will make these moments look easy, but we’ll remember. We’ll remember the first words, the curls, the “I love you’s”, the moments we almost broke, and how we held each other through it.

We’ll laugh and we’ll cry just like we did then.

There’s a life in the future and it’s coming for us every day.

So let’s get swept up in the beautiful chaos in front of us. Let’s make the future wait a little longer. Because I love this life with you so much, this one right now.

By Jessica Urlichs

This piece is available in the hardback of my poetry book 'From One Mom to a Mother'

Printable poem available here

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