You feel more grounded after really good days like these. Certain.
Reading the longer books aloud with a warm-bodied nephew and niece early in the morning. Crouched together and leaning back against the bedboard, small heads resting on your chest and small hands reaching up for ears and the softness of hair.
A breakfast at sister’s house with parents, S., the kids, friend A. and his three kids in tow, and a late arriving neighbor girl who showed up unexpectedly and solemnly at the door– bright morning sunshine on a brisk, windy day. Freshly baked and prepared breakfast food, play, and talk.
A neighborhood walk post-breakfast with S. in the early afternoon along winding sidewalk and towards the edge of a local ball field. A bench and simply sitting. Meeting neighbors walking dogs. Thinking of own childhood wooded paths.
Building colored castles with nephew post his afternoon nap, slowed and comfortable and his small hand absently feeling the softness of corduroy pants.
Dinner at the local meeting hall with some Chinese-speaking brothers and sisters–richness of food brought, warmth of people together, and the faith that so evidently moves them to be together, eat together, sing together.
And quiet of mid-evening at parent’s apartment the final day before leaving, dad washing the ends of dishes, mom putting out the vitamins (clinking into the once-soysauce-holders-and-now-vitamin-containers) for the next day, and happy plans to hit up the neighborhood IHOP for a pancake-and-sausage-and-egg breakfast goodbye.
A good weekend at home? Certain.
Certainties
You feel more grounded after really good days like these. Certain.
Reading the longer books aloud with a warm-bodied nephew and niece early in the morning. Crouched together and leaning back against the bedboard, small heads resting on your chest and small hands reaching up for ears and the softness of hair.
A breakfast at sister’s house with parents, S., the kids, friend A. and his three kids in tow, and a late arriving neighbor girl who showed up unexpectedly and solemnly at the door– bright morning sunshine on a brisk, windy day. Freshly baked and prepared breakfast food, play, and talk.
A neighborhood walk post-breakfast with S. in the early afternoon along winding sidewalk and towards the edge of a local ball field. A bench and simply sitting. Meeting neighbors walking dogs. Thinking of own childhood wooded paths.
Building colored castles with nephew post his afternoon nap, slowed and comfortable and his small hand absently feeling the softness of corduroy pants.
Dinner at the local meeting hall with some Chinese-speaking brothers and sisters–richness of food brought, warmth of people together, and the faith that so evidently moves them to be together, eat together, sing together.
And quiet of mid-evening at parent’s apartment the final day before leaving, dad washing the ends of dishes, mom putting out the vitamins (clinking into the once-soysauce-holders-and-now-vitamin-containers) for the next day, and happy plans to hit up the neighborhood IHOP for a pancake-and-sausage-and-egg breakfast goodbye.
A good weekend at home? Certain.