The night before

"To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven."* — Ecclesiastes 3:1 (KJV)

Dan called at eight.

I picked up on the second ring and said hello and he said hey Mama and I said hey, and that was the first thirty seconds accounted for, which is the same thirty seconds every Tuesday, and tonight the sameness of it was the whole gift.

He told me about work. Something about a project that is behind schedule and a meeting that went long and a colleague who does not return emails, and I listened the way I listen to Dan's work stories, which is to say I listened to the sound of his voice and did not try to follow the details because the details are not for me. The details are for Beth. The sound is for me.

He asked about my week and I told him about the apple butter I am going to start tomorrow and the bird I saw at the feeder on Saturday that I still have not identified even with the field guide he sent, and he laughed and said he would send me a better one, and I said Daniel, you are not sending me another field guide, and he said we'll see, which is Dan's way of saying yes I am.

Then it was quiet for about four seconds, which is a long time on the phone.

I said, "Are you doing all right?"

He said, "Yeah. I'm good. You?"

I said I was good.

Neither of us said what tomorrow is. We both know what tomorrow is the way we both know where the furniture is in the dark room, and tonight we walked around it again, and our feet knew, and we did not bump into anything, and then he said *Night, Mama. Love you* and I said I love you too, Daniel, and I used his full name because sometimes when I am tender I cannot help it.

To every thing there is a season. There is a season for saying the name of the day and a season for not saying it, and tonight was the season for not.

Lord, thank you for the boy who calls the night before and does not need me to say why I used his whole name.