“Without a calendar, where would the week go?”
― Anthony T. Hincks
The week is full of the last October skies; blazing blue, crisp and golden. The new home, that is going up next door, looms over us, so close; blocking part of our view from the back yard. I watch with curiosity, as the framers do their job, and try to imagine each room along with grass in the yard, and the sound of children’s (three boys) laughter next door. We have never had neighbors so close.
The kids come for Sunday dinner (curry and cookies ) and I marvel at the ease in which they all settle in. There is a comfortable routine to it now that brings me joy along with peace and assurance that I did not fail motherhood. Something I need right now.
I stumble across this book and think the author has plagiarized my journals. I can’t put it down and realize what a teeter-totter parenthood was and understanding floods me. Her stories are so familiar it is comforting and heartbreaking; often so close to home I am jolted into memories that leave me exhausted. I am thankful for her braveness, as her words validate some of the responsibility and sadness I will always carry, allowing me to own it with grace. I grasp how many balls I was trying to keep in the air, and am able to see the mother I was and still am, with tenderness and admiration.
Craving my own company, I leave the dog home, take my camera and walk a neighborhood new to me.
I spot the red tricycle and after that inspiration comes effortlessly.
have a beautiful weekend . . .