She leans her little face full into honeysuckles, and draws the deepest breath. Yellow petals frame freckles. Eyelashes sweep cheeks and as she inhales all that drama, I can see her heart descending down into wild bouquet. Beauty being fully admired. She with her long stems still soil held. Me watching her. Smiling.
And that little bird bathing raucously in a mud puddle at the end of the lane. My window is down, and she is singing and splashing and washing and praising, and "Oh! This feels GOOD!".
The eleven year old. Tears. Tears of joy. Here is some success. Some sweetness in what has been a puckered face of sour year. His sideways glance to see if his dad and I are watching. And Oh how we are! A little hope, and who is more proud?
The Silent Deep is smiling today, and we all smile too. Yes. Even me. Even now. He shows us his Guard backpack, and fills us in on all the details of life about to change everything. While sitting in his father's chair, he tells me what the plan is, and it makes me want to laugh! This is AWESOME!
The Strong Soft helps with all the preparations, and I know I am blessed to leave things in her capable hands. Grateful heart.
Laughter. The Kind and Compassionate chases his baby sister all over the house, then runs in mock terror as she chases him right back. He lets himself be caught. I want to catch him. Catch all this. Joy is contagious.
Ah-choo! To you!