Sitting across from my beautiful mom, soaking up time with the one person most like me in the world, really seeing her in new ways and as I watch my dear friends raising their first little ones, I find myself picturing her and my father as nervous young parents just figuring it out and I love pausing in that daydream (even when it gets me all choked up and misty-eyed) and I just find myself feeling incredibly thankful and just wanting to tell both her and them...hey, you over there, the one with the bleary eyes and frazzled nerves, yeah, you...you're doing a really good job.
Dashing around the corner, running late (as usual) in a hurryhurryhurry! and screeching on the brakes for the old couple approaching. Though such a sight pulls at my heart strings, they aren't quite as endearing when shuffling sloooooooooowly and though totally unaware, taking up the entire hallway. All such impatient thoughts completely and utterly dissolve as I watch Grandpa come to a halt while staring, puzzled, off to the right...and Grandma (just a step or so behind) comes up on his left and taps his arm, smiling. "Well, there you are!" he chuckled, beaming down at her as I melted all over that linoleum hallway.
Feeling an ache of it's not FAIR! Where are You?! How could You?! for the pain and broken hearts of those that surround me. She says with a wobbly voice, I am not brave, but her chin is still up (and her eyes full of tears) and she hurts and we all hurt with them and you can see it in his glance that they are grieving, searching, hoping, waiting. And we wait with them. And pray for peace.
And that, I suppose, is what they call life.