Two weeks, two weeks it's been since I flew home. I've kept my calendar mostly clear, and some of what was scheduled I just crossed off. Some days were spent playing the entire day, and some I didn't even get dressed. Note to self: sports bras are a good thing to sleep in, or at least pull on immediately after brushing your teeth. They serve those 'don't get dressed days' well, especially when the neighbor comes over at 4 in the afternoon, asking to borrow a ladder. I'll remember that.

I've spent four hours on the phone with my two parents. I've spent an entire day with my daughter, celebrating her birthday by bravely driving into Pittsburgh, eating at a not-often-frequented restaurant, then giving her a budget and having a blast just watching her shop for pretty things. I've spent a bit of time with my pudgy, adorable grandson - sitting on the floor making train and lion noises and watching Noggin' with him. I've had a few glasses of wine, over long talks with DH, about fixing up the house, moving away, buying another house, what will our life look like in the next stage, how will we choose a church, friends, activities? I've had four hour cups of coffee with a dear friend, discussing life, employment and the lack thereof, how to arrange a room, how to heal hurts, how to keep marriages growing through long years. I've spent some time cleaning up the camper and then listing it to sell, so we don't have a 20' pull behind us as we begin a 1200 mile drive across the country. I'm so hoping someone will buy him and love him like we have. I've chatted with repairmen, about leaks in the newly renovated bathroom, and about giving the house a fresh coat of paint, and on sprucing up the yard. I've spent time on long, rambly emails with my sister about deep things, those talks that would have been fun on an outside deck, late at night, while the stars were beginning to peek out. I'm trusting we have some of those nights together in the not so distant future. I've made plans for us to drive and see some dear friends, celebrating the 4th of July with them, but more just celebrating 20+ years of friendship that's held up in spite of the miles inbetween us.

Three weeks, it's been three weeks since my daughter and her family moved into their new home. Three weeks of unpacking boxes, arranging furniture and buying more, putting up window treatments, finding new places for favorite old things, discovering berry patches, meeting new neighbors - those with two legs and four - learning how to battle mice and plant a first garden and what plants are what, and where to move this perennial and what new ones to buy and bring home. Three weeks of learning the back roads to their 'new' place, baking that first batch of cookies in this home, which is almost like a christening, it's such a part of making a place truly feel like home. Doing those first loads of laundry - and isn't the smell of freshly washed towels and underwear a part of that too? Cleaning the bathrooms for the first time when it's actually your mess you're cleaning up, hauling home a car full of groceries, mowing the grass (or pasture), making smores, and catching grasshoppers or crickets in jars, and riding bicycles up and down the driveway without your shirt or shoes on. By the way, this last activity is best left to the little ones if you don't want to scare off those neighbors, but there's nothing quite so charming as seeing, from the back, a skinny little boy, sans shirt, pedaling his bike down a long driveway.

Amazing, how much of the rhythm of life can be held in just a few weeks of time, no matter the stage we're at.

Labels: Glimpse of the Heart