Bradley Cooper and Lady Gaga || Oh How I Love You So

To Hold You In My Arms

Bradley

When I first held her in my arms on that warm June day,
I promised myself that I would keep any imaginable danger away.
No Godly tempest, or sinner's plan,
Would stop me from stop me from protecting her from the wrath of man.

Some experiences shake your soul so deeply, for as long as you live, you never forget that poignant moment when you know your life has changed forever.

There is nothing more jarring than the screams of a woman when something horrific has occurred. It is markedly different than a scream on the street, or a hollering up the stairs. It comes from so deep in the gut, you can feel it quake through your bones. A scream of such undeniable anguish, there is no mistaking something gravely wrong has happened.

I know from my own experience, that a scream like that is sound that will ring through my subconscious for the rest of my life.

-

The crescent was still high when we pulled the three limp little bodies out of their warm hotel beds. Still captured by the depths of sleep, we carried them one by one to the car, and headed to the airport to private flight that was awaiting our arrival.

It was late August, and we had arrived in Barcelona early this morning for the final show of Stefani's tour. Although traveling the world with our children was dream-like lifestyle, we were all beginning to tire. The beaches of the South of France were beautiful and the splendors of Greece truly breathtaking, but nothing quite compared the view of Central Park from our rooftop. And all the people we met in Amsterdam, Sydney, and Rio de Janeiro were wonderful, but their accents just did not ring in the streets like the gruff city dialects of our neighbors across town. And although the spaghetti bolognese in Florence was delicious, it did not bring the same comfort as the way Stefani's Dad, Joe, made it.

To put it plainly, we were all a little homesick. We missed the city streets, and the restaurant, walking the dogs in the Park, and the comforts and privacy of our own home.

We missed New York.

The girls would be going back to school next month, and a couple months ago, I would have never believed you if you said I was actually looking forward to sitting at the kitchen counter and helping with homework every night.

The fresh breeze of the morning hit my face as I entered the doorway of our private plane. The warmth of the sun just what I needed to wake me up for the start of our day.

We each carried a child down the steps of the plane and onto the tarmac, as their little bodies clung to us in a heavy, dreamless sleep. Joe led the way with Lulu's arms and legs wrapped around his neck and torso, her feet were bare and her hair was still in last night's messy ponytail.

I could feel Margot's soft breath against my neck as I made my way down the steps of the plane, her body limp in her purple t-shirt and short pajama set as she gripped her stuffed rabbit over my shoulder.

Stefani and Cynthia followed closely behind. Evie, always inseparable from her mother, was curled up under her favorite pink blanket, as Stefani cradled the baby to her chest and nuzzled her nose against our littlest one's head.

Margot shifted slightly in my arms, rubbing her eyes with her free fist.

"Mmm, is someone awake?" I asked rubbing my hand against her back.