Sitting

I sat on the chair the day he left and scrolled through the pictures he took over the years. Each one has a voice, and the greatness of his heart saturates each one, the keen eye catching what is within. Those understanding eyes, that voice so full of calm, how I miss them already. Get me that kleenex box!

I sat after I hung up the phone. He sounds so good, so wise and capable. Beyond my thinking. I try to keep the dam from breaking. He will leave the place he has come to love. He will leave a part of himself there. I still hear him in my heart. The telephone click at the end was loud. I sat for awhile and then let the tears go.

I sat down for awhile when she left. Kevin took her with him. Lucky guy. Her life is utter adventure, in the sky type. I love her voice, her laughter, her pursing of lips when I am not hard enough on the 12-year-old, her unconditional love and forgiveness towards me, the delicious hugs. I sat down and wondered and tears stung.


I sat down the night she left, in her room still dotted with clutter and untossed trash sacks. The bed was noisy, no clock hummed and no laptop glowed. She takes with her the ability to find photos for me, pick up the kids, play for my recitals and cry on my shoulder. I sat, then I laid down and smelled her sweetness awhile. And mixed it with a little sobbing.

I sat down when she left. I am often a little lost when one of my little girls gets married. Will she call me? Will she think of home sometimes? Will she be loved by her sweetheart as much as I am by mine? Will she have enough problems to make a fantastic marriage? Will she wish I was making her practice? Will she want to know how I did it? Did what? It all just happened, and now she leaves and I am saying good-bye. And I am just sitting, and crying again.

I sat down in the passenger seat, the drool still enshrined on my cheek. Still warm are the hugs from the mothers in my life, the beautiful, amazing, lovely mothers of my 5, 3, 2 & 1 year old girls. They towered over me with their athletic ways with Lilly. Passing her between them like they were not two, but one. I looking on in awe. I sat all the way home, wishing for one more laugh, one more hug, one more moment in the temple. My tears find their own way home.

So I sat a lot this past two weeks. They flew and I sat. I don't know whether to love it or grieve. Maybe both. I still sit as Tammy turns 17, Bethany plays endlessly on the piano and Isaac makes breakfast for Tammy this morning. I want to do something, but if I do, I may miss all this. So I'll sit, and cry, and sit some more.

And though I am so very busy, I will be sure to sit much. It is everything.