The way to love someone
is to lightly run your finger over that person's soul
until you find a crack,
and then gently pour your love into that crack.
~Keith Miller

Thursday, November 15, 2018

old draft from 2015 -

For several years 3's seat at church was in his dad's lap.   One of our friends wondered how many sermons we had all heard during the time it took to "rub the hair" off of the top of L's head.

It was truly great to have four of them here at once - four plus the one we seem to be on track to add.  Two asked me to sing at her wedding.  I generally do not sing alone except at home, but I told her whatever she wants.

It was Three's first time to fly commercial carrier.  Hilarious to hear him describe the experience complete with "hand airplane" in a jittering roll.  He said he searched the faces of those around him and no one seemed alarmed in the least.  He was on an A319 so it couldn't have been that bad - he has only "precious cargo flights" to compare this one to and I guess everyone doesn't set you down like your momma will.  All in all, he boarded the flight home saying he'd be back soon, it couldn't have been too bad.

Almost immediately after my dad died, my mother sold our home and moved.  She actually sold the house, and with the exception of one painting and the breakfast table, everything in it.  What didn't sell in the garage sale (I guess it was a garage sale, I was back at school) she gave to a charity.  That one painting Tommy kept, I have re-purposed the glass top to the breakfast table into a large coffee table.  I'm looking at it now.  And smiling.  My kids grew up spilling paint and tumbling block towers on that table ... later putting the Christmas puzzle together bit by bit, we play silly games like Exploding Cats at it now.   I built the base with two board notched to slide together to form an X.  We stopped using it for a breakfast table, but I can still see Momma and Daddy and Tommy and me sitting at it.  Thinking back I realize that my parents acquired it when our family became four.  It is the table that I sat the flowers from Daddy's garden on that day.

The table we use for most meals is an old farm house table which came from my husband's people.  It belonged to his grandparents and had for his dad's entire life.  I've refinished it twice and I think it might be due for another go!  It has four leaves and five legs.  My two oldest were talking about who should get it next during this recent visit.  That might have been morbid, but it was just funny.  Two really seems to want it. Looking at the memories invisibly stacked on the (now) coffee table I can see why she would want it - lotsa her memories were made at that table.  She said her daddy wrote "I love Two" on the inside of one of the legs where it bolts in to the table skirt.  She remembered fixing a wobbly leg with him.  Pretty sweet.  The chairs around it have changed, but the table itself has been a constant in our family's life.  

I wondered how it would "feel" to our children ... coming home to a different house. I never felt at home in my mother's house after she moved.  At the time I resented every thing new that she wrapped around herself after Daddy died.  Now I see that people deal with changes in all sorts of different ways and I believe she did the best she could.  I'm probably too sentimental.  Having the kids in felt exactly like home.

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