It’s been a tough week. Facing death’s sting, coming to terms with the limits we have in this physical world, watching the end of childhood, and cold, bleak weather that makes me want to stay home and never go outside again.
This morning, like so many others, I woke to the sound of wooden Brio train tracks clinking as they were being built by little hands. I realized how thankful I am to hear that sound. Little boys jumping out of bed as soon as they wake, heading downstairs in their jammies to build some new rail system they dreamed up over the night. Little hands grasping for toys. Even though I fall apart under the demands of these boys some days, I’m so grateful… I just don’t want to see it end.
Yes, I realize that they’re all sleeping now, and no one is fighting, whining or asking me for a single thing. Still, it’s great to not be alone. I love the journey with these guys.
Not following the rules today for Wordless Wednesday. Maybe life’s just too short…