Closer walks

I awoke this morning as the only adult in the house; my husband had taken the day off to help Nonno and Deedaw with something, and when I grumped my way into consciousness, he had already left.  This left me with a full hour of almost total silence in the house, punctuated only by the rumbling ellipses of Bo’s snoring.  There was no guilt in my quiet, slow enjoyment of a full cup of coffee or leisurely reading over some detailed news articles, and by the time Bugaboo tumbled into the living room to inform me that she would very much like to have some milk and a banana, I was ready to face whatever the day had in store for me.

By now I should know that when the Lord grants me a tranquil hour at the beginning of the day, it is usually so that I will have sufficient strength in reserve to handle the explosions in my day.  That’s a mercy on His part, and today, when by lunchtime so many bombs had burst in the air around me that I was beginning to feel like Francis Scott Key, I reflected several times on the blessed quiet of that pre-dawn hour.

This afternoon, before Manie came home, I made it a point to snuggle each of our little blessings close and whisper, “I love you.”  I show it in a hundred ways on any given day, but today, with its reminders that none of us are given know the hour or the day of our departure from this life, it seemed important to say it.

I’m afraid I don’t have any funny kid stories today.  If you can spare a couple of prayers for my Uncle Mickey and his son Michael, though, I’d appreciate it.

Today’s prayer:  Lord, our life here is short.  You have graced our family with some wonderful people, some of whom are growing very old.  Thank You for all of them, and for the length of years You granted so many of them.  Please show me ways to make sure Your blessings know as many of them as possible, and please help me teach them that even if they trespass against us, we will always love them.


3 thoughts on “Closer walks

    • Thanks, Momma E. I loved Uncle Mickey, but I hadn’t gotten to see him much in recent years. I don’t remember his son Michael at all, but from what I’ve heard of him, I think I would have liked him very much. It’s just redoubled my determination to make sure our tribe gets to spend lots of time around all these grand elderly people so they’ll know the wonderful stories they have to tell and skills they have to share. There aren’t enough words in the English language to describe the debt of gratitude I owe my parents for making sure I had the opportunity to know why losing people like Uncle Mick, Uncle Mike, Aunt Ursula and over a a hundred others was, in fact, a loss. I really want to give our children the same gift.

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