October 22, 2006

They're there if you look

Sometimes the crush of daily life and the dullness of routine obscures the fact that my children are growing. Fast. But once in a while, if I am quiet enough, I am privileged to watch a memory crystallizing before my very eyes:

I am sitting here on the couch. Next to me is a fat beagle, smelling of outside and rain, snuggled in as close to me as she can be, snoring. At my feet is my 7-year-old boy, clearly delighting in the opportunity to teach his older brother how to play chess. Across from him is said 14-year-old sibling, lanky frame stretched across the entire room (or so it seems), one foot in manhood and the other, in childhood -- and in this moment, reveling in the excuse to be silly and young. Rain hits the skylights, a comforting sound broken only by chuckles and "Hey, that one can't move that way..." and "What can this guy do?".

Just an ordinary day -- a dreary gray one, in fact. The world is a mess, the laundry needs folding, a gazillion writing deadlines loom, I can't shake this ear infection, and a million little things are wrong. But here, in this moment, everything feels utterly,

wonderfully

perfect.

1 comment:

Lisa Ryan said...

mmmm, boys and beagles. who could ask for anything more?
the fireplace is going, the boys came home from visiting Jenna and two snuggled in with me to watch a movie. I am loving this dreary day too.