Wednesday, August 19, 2009
You Capture - Peace
I steal into your rooms tonight, a small smile toying at my lips as I remember our earlier conversation today: In The Golden Goblet, Ranofer "stole" across the courtyard. I asked if that meant he was able to physically pick up the courtyard and take it somewhere. You all giggled.
This is a nightly ritual. When you were babies, I would stand over your crib, sometimes for several minutes, watching, marveling at who you were. Now I check your coverings...3 of you rarely have the covering you need, 1 of you wraps himself up like a mummy, and I fear suffocation in spite of the summer air conditioning.
Sometimes I still linger, memorizing your sweet, sleeping faces, thoughts of the day replaying in my mind. I revisit the fun moments of the day, the moments of smiles and hugs and meaningful interaction. Then my mind travels to those not-so-bright moments, moments where I grew impatient, moments when I absent-mindedly brushed you aside, losing a potentially precious moment forever.
These thoughts always give me pause. I long to have back some of these unsavory moments to re-work them. Knowing I can't, though, I allow dreams of tomorrow to flitter across the screen of my mind. And I pray, pray for wisdom in bringing up these precious children, pray for sweet and encouraging words to be my default tomorrow.
Your soft expressions bring a smile to my face, and I feel pride and an overwhelming sense of love for you. I turn and softly close the door so you are not awakened by the hall light or a playful feline. I turn toward the peaceful quietness of the evening, content to be right where I am at this very moment.