Now, now now.

The road stretches on and on, slicing thick through piles of old snow. Cold wind bites the car and we blast warm air at ourselves from the inside. We've been in the car for six hours now and we're not even halfway there. And that's okay. Of course it's okay. In the backseat my daughters are sleeping, little pulses of warmth and love. My husband at the helm. And for the briefest of moments I feel the gears and cogs of time align themselves around me. I'm there at the center and I can see so clearly where I stand, when I stand: now, now, now. This is happy. And just as I recognize it, it passes, and I'm sucked back through the cogs: forward, forward, forward.