Remember what it feels like to be loved…

Our home swells with grown children returned home, family gatherings, and a granddaughter who can wipe away your blues with a smile.

Bodies sleep peacefully on coaches, as I tiptoe to the kitchen to pour coffee.

I enter my art room and see my daughter’s canvases and paints piled upon the table. Her latest work in progress props up on my easel.

Easter weekend, I sigh, a time to celebrate our Lord’s resurrection and to enjoy our growing family, with all of the Easter egg hunting, story sharing, and belly laughing.

 

I sit in silence and reminisce the family gathering on Saturday. Where did the time go? I wonder. When did little boys grew up into men and little girls into women while my siblings I grew deeper laugh lines?

If I could freeze these moments I would, but I can’t. Jobs await and children must return to their worlds that exist apart from us parents. Isn’t it funny how fast the good times speed by while the sad ones settle so deeply in your soul?

The Easter Egg Hunt

So while bags get packed and good-bye hugs exchanged, I try to marble these moments into memories. Perhaps I can erect permanence, preserve what it’s like to live meaningfully, remember what it feels like to be loved.

 

 

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