True Story.

This morning's first words, 7:08am:
"Is Daddy at work already?"

Ahh beautiful, longing and wishful imagination.
If only this dream were true.
How I wish we could Disney it up in our home
Snap our fingers a la Mary Poppins and have him appear.
Just for a hug.
A really long one.
Eternal in fact.
Give that girl one of those, and then reach out your arm and bring me in too.
Sandwich her in
Tightly

Oh Pumpkin, you know he's not.

He IS!

Into the bathroom she goes, door closes.
Ten minute silence draws me in there to find her naked and cross legged on the toilet.
Are you meditating?
Yes, she says.

It's Friday.
Almost Eve of Mother's Day.
And as challenging as parenting is, I'm grateful for this.
So
Very
Grateful.

Our family lost a dear friend just a few late nights ago.
Floated away gracefully, just as Alan did,
Heartbreak in her wake.
She was a friend and a mom and a grandmother.

Earth Mother, in fact.

She
Was.

Just that afternoon as Lily zoomed through photos on my phone she stopped and lingered on just one.
She stared long and hard, lost in thought.
Fixed gaze.
It was at that moment I feared it might be one of this woman's last.

Sure enough, it was.

Lily often prefaces her "accounts" with "this is a true story, ok Mama?"
OK I say.
Sometimes I think children have a very sixth sense about things.
A teacher from last year referred to her group of classmates as Crystal Children.
Perhaps this was what she meant.

I really think Karen's grabbed on to Alan -
hands strong, fingers interwoven
Tightly.
Memories and love flowing through, re-charging one another.

That's good.

Sad, but good.
Together.