The darkness of early morning lays heavy. Silhouettes of furniture hem the space about and I hear the sounds of sleep from the next room. Morning is beautiful, although I miss the warmth of the worker who slipped out while the moon still hung.
Here in these early morning hours, I fill baskets. Satisfied and wonder-filled, I gather the joys that multiplied.
Our weekend begins on Thursday evening. Four long days are celebrated with an early weekend. Though his load has been heavy, my worker rejoices at the blessing that follows; three days of rest. Three days for three of us. An equation which yields full baskets.
The kindness of spring greeted our Friday morning. Bird trills and throaty songs from the marsh serenaded the sun's ascent. Golden air slipped in through the open window.
Hair curled and bags packed, we stepped out to join the day. Plans were planned; Evie was off to Grandma's and we steered the car towards the big city. Hours to fill with each other and a conference. Opportunities ahead.
Books and seminars and plans for the coming school year all hemmed in by the sweet faces of friends. Through the crowds we saw the familiar and gathered for conversation. Our arms were heavy with books and our minds with information, yet our hearts were lightened in those moments of kinship.
What a welcome back to life; the arms of a little girl encircling my neck. "I missed you so much, mama!" she cried. She smelled of summer, her hair wild. And the night was complete, what with tucking in and stories and laughter and prayers and the hope of family making the trip into town for the weekend ahead.
Saturday morning was a sunny blur. Different ones here and there. Evie's world complete with the addition of her most precious cousin, Hannah. Laughing little faces and serious grown-up faces. I wondered at the emotions and then the news, it shook me terribly though I had nearly expected it. A smiling 6 year old face read me the note she spelled phonetically and I was glad she could decipher it. "We are going to move to a new home," she said and I looked up for confirmation. My beautiful sister; her eyes proved true.
Those blurry moments when your emotions collide in a sort of horrible wreck. Everything at once and flames that shoot high and eyes water to put out the fire. It burned hot my heart melted in the heat.
But it goes on, life. The clock does not stop and this very second is all I own. Little hands grab my cheeks and inquired of my tears. "But mama,"she said with cheer and compassion. "Let's just live in today. That's what you always tell me." And wisdom makes a full circle.
So we celebrated the moments; memories are made right where life is. We celebrated the daisy days sale at Joanne Fabrics. And we also celebrated Easter; for celebrating a holiday belatedly is just as good when it works out for everyone to join. Eggs and bucket headed people smiling and squinting in the bright, golden rays.
Patience and laughter and tears and pickle juice seasoned the grilled flavors on our table. We made memories in our togetherness.
Day three began like most Sundays, a mad dash out the door. We celebrated our on time arrival to church- a miracle in itself- with a third row seat. Listening is easier when you sit close enough to shake hands with the speaker.
Faces gathered around the table for another meal. Tacos and good conversation and the comfort of family. And rice, always rice. The small people entertained with their antics and clever words. We finished and cleaned and went our ways; goodbyes of various degrees.
And night comes - the day and the weekend. Rest finds its finale in a to-do list of groceries, clean up chores and laughter. So we drink in the moments; the sounds and sights of three in a space that bursts with the joy dwelling inside.The day closes and we gather on our knees; prayers of thankfulness and a lot of silly little person.
Darkness hemmed the day and morning unfurls. I pick up what was left of the broken pieces and my baskets are full.
But it goes on, life. The clock does not stop and this very second is all I own. Little hands grab my cheeks and inquired of my tears. "But mama,"she said with cheer and compassion. "Let's just live in today. That's what you always tell me." And wisdom makes a full circle.
So we celebrated the moments; memories are made right where life is. We celebrated the daisy days sale at Joanne Fabrics. And we also celebrated Easter; for celebrating a holiday belatedly is just as good when it works out for everyone to join. Eggs and bucket headed people smiling and squinting in the bright, golden rays.
Patience and laughter and tears and pickle juice seasoned the grilled flavors on our table. We made memories in our togetherness.
Day three began like most Sundays, a mad dash out the door. We celebrated our on time arrival to church- a miracle in itself- with a third row seat. Listening is easier when you sit close enough to shake hands with the speaker.
Faces gathered around the table for another meal. Tacos and good conversation and the comfort of family. And rice, always rice. The small people entertained with their antics and clever words. We finished and cleaned and went our ways; goodbyes of various degrees.
And night comes - the day and the weekend. Rest finds its finale in a to-do list of groceries, clean up chores and laughter. So we drink in the moments; the sounds and sights of three in a space that bursts with the joy dwelling inside.The day closes and we gather on our knees; prayers of thankfulness and a lot of silly little person.
Darkness hemmed the day and morning unfurls. I pick up what was left of the broken pieces and my baskets are full.
