Tearful stains

Long, black lines of permanent marker stain the faux suede couch.  Each one - soaking in a white vinegar, dish soap, and water solution - resembles a drop of dew that sparkles on the grass in early morning light. 

One.  Two.  Three.  Four.  Five.  Six.  Seven.  Eight.  How did Ezra get to an eighth mark before I noticed?  Russell's skype persona held my attention; Joey's funny antics amused; even, the flickering fireflies caught the corners of my eyes.  But, Ezra's guile alluded me!

Have you ever been so duped, friend, into enjoying a moment only to have it followed with long hours of work to make up for a grand mistake or painful heartache? 

I'll be carefully blotting marker stains late tonight, while savoring a moment to see my love's sweet face.  Tears may creep into the soft green cushion while I dab rubbing alcohol on the fading fringe Ezra drew, but my two-year-old's happy smile will mingle with that ache.  And, when a final rinse and brush reveal - prayerfully - a faded if not erased repetition of lines, then I will sigh and give a hearty laugh in conjunction with Joey's jovial humor.

Perhaps you, too, can smile or dare-say laugh amidst your strife today, friend?

Holding hands

"Let 's hold hands, boys."  I grab Ezra's hand; Ezra slips his hand into Joey's sure palm; then, linked together like paper-chain angels, we cross the parking lot to the library's door.

Like a mommy duck's desire to line her little ones in a row as they wade through water, teaching my boys to keep together when we're near a car-frenzied place or in a crowd has been just as important as their learning to share, not to fuss when things don't go their way, or not do bodily harm to one another.  It's a slow process - learning to live in harmony with those we love.  How do you fare, friend?

There are times when I feel buoyed by the love of family and friends.  During these times, I cannot imagine the weary days that lap at my feet.  Do you know what I mean, friend?  Has love lit your life in an extra special way?

On the other hand, I often feel so disconnected from others that it's overwhelming.  Like sitting on the subway: each individual bundled in an invisible box that keeps bumping the one next to it as the train barrels through dark tunnels, I feel like despite the close connection between family and friends we are still so far apart.  Is it this way for you, too?

Holding hands with my little boys reminds me of the close connection I want to keep with those I love and that love me.  How refreshing that Joey and Ezra want to hold hands through a self-involved and fast-paced world.  My prayer is that it will last and so, too, your close friendships, friend.