I woke-up to a big bright ball of yellow-shining heat, the
birds singing melodies perched in my naked-limbed trees, and my multi-noted
wind chimes providing all the background music. As I stood at the storm door, through my reflection I
immediately began to plot and imagine the day’s events, how it would all go,
and in what order. Cleaning-out flower beds on my knees and ridding them of all
the stray, dead grass and winter weeds that are littered about my lawn like
strewn trash; or would I first be re-filling my bird feeders, a combination of
both seed and humming bird sugar water? Scrubbing, bleaching/cleaning the front
yard bird bath that hasn’t had company in months now, as all of its regular
occupants have long since headed further south.
As it turned out, I would be doing none of that; for when I opened the door to greet the day, that cold blast smacked me right in the face, instantly reminding me, that it’s still winter, and certainly not time for any of that kind of fun-filled day. Instead, I would continue to stand at the door, watching my husband wash his truck in 55 degree weather, as I imagined his fingers and hands were cold enough and the color of blue enough that he too, was wishing for the times of warmer days.
As it turned out, I would be doing none of that; for when I opened the door to greet the day, that cold blast smacked me right in the face, instantly reminding me, that it’s still winter, and certainly not time for any of that kind of fun-filled day. Instead, I would continue to stand at the door, watching my husband wash his truck in 55 degree weather, as I imagined his fingers and hands were cold enough and the color of blue enough that he too, was wishing for the times of warmer days.
As I still stood at that door, my youngest son and his
girlfriend pulled-up in the drive-way, having just gotten back from church,
looking all grown-up in their nice Sunday clothes. With thoughts of how grown
he actually looked, and how fast these times seem to be passing now, my mind
wandered back to our two weeks of Christmas vacation together, what a wonderful
time we all had, and I suddenly remembered I never told you all about all of
that; and it’s important that I do, because just as I tell you the things that
I think may help you in your own hard situations, I think I should share the
good things that may also give you hope that things can change.
As I said before, my children are nine years apart, and as
alike as they are different. For years they were so close they almost seemed as
one, and then in the last few years it seemed they were always at odds and so
very different.
During the holidays, somehow the switch of life was flipped and they were the people that I once knew all over again. My oldest son said it best one night when we were here alone and talking; he said “Zach and I have had the best two weeks together in a long time. I think the problem was I had to learn how to stop acting and sounding like a big brother/parent, because he’s almost twenty now himself, and start simply being a brother, a friend.” Whatever it was, it worked and they were inseparable, my house was calm, and life was as it should be again. Here’s to sunny Sunday’s and more wins than losses.
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