There's no place like...

Eric built his Hawaiian loft house, on stilts, mind you.  Cayden and Silas are growing and so growing...I feel I'm losing touch.
Ian left home for college and is tucked into his closet dorm amongst the clothes and music and books.
Mom is home. Dad is home. Just themselves for the first time in 30 years.
Is there a guideline for these transitions? Can't someone tell me how it's done?
I never thought we'd be so far from one another. It breaks me. But only in moments. It hits me like a wave; one minute I'm tying my shoe and the next I'm remembering how'd you'd stuff your sock into your shoe with nary a care in the world. Do you remember? I'd watch wide eyed and dumbstruck...how could anyone ever possibly do that? I cried if I felt the sock line on my toes...
You made beautiful treasure hunts for me with prizes at their end: caramel suckers, pens, notepads, and gum. David Cowens and his bullying you stopped with your strong words of God and love. His fat cheeks wet with tears when you were finished talking to him.You made me the loveliest rag doll; you were very patient and always cleaned the kitchen. High school days and the difficult transition from girl to woman, all our late night phone calls and you'd encourage the tearful face and lonely heart. What do I do with these memories? I want you here! To live your life next to mine.
Ian and your young wispy, blonde hair and jean overalls. You'd preach to the elderly at the old folks home; using a green plastic screwdriver, turned upside down. You'd say in a sigh, " We home " as we pulled into our El Paso home and would cry: I will never, ever do dat uginnn! after a spanking. You never believed in the Borrowers no matter how hard we tried! We even made a tiny ladder for the hole in the wall...so wise and logical you are! You're my history book now and such wonderful talks we have! How I enjoy your company.

I feel so separate, alone from the ones with whom I grew my years. Lego's I watched my older brother build are no longer a tangible reality or my younger brother learning to spell with animal crackers. Now memories inside my mind; laid next to the ones of make-believe glasses. Eric would pop out the dark lens and let me keep the frames. I was a librarian sometimes; collecting all  my books from their shelves and stamping them with my umbrella stamp. Images that exist only in memory; and all the while I was waiting to grow up.
And now I wait for children. The same way I waited for marriage. The same way...

This is life. And how it moves I must accept. It is hard for me to be content with where I am; trusting God to move me where He wants. I feel a constant strain to get to where I want; when it doesn't matter but that I am obeying Gods will. That is my only place. And that brings me to our little apartment. Inside the busy traffic loop of 410. At my work place. And most importantly by my husband. My greatest achievement is to see his calling fulfilled.

I want to sleep in my old room sometimes and feel Mowgli's little lick on my hand. Or bob's purring and his pat-pat's on my head. I cannot stay here though. I shall be quite miserable if I stay long here...life cannot be about myself and how I want it; I should be very depressed indeed. Yet, even after that, still I want it my way. I think I am very much learning:  when memories awaken and lean upon my mind...oh! let me enjoy them for what they were and continue moving to where Christ is.  I think Matthew 17:8 says it perfectly: "And when they lifted up their eyes, they saw no one but Jesus only."

Oh! God!Let me see thee!





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