I have always been painfully aware of how fast life is. When I was a little girl I remember many times hiding out behind the White Machine Shed crying because life was too fast and I was afraid of growing up. My dad always had this saying, "You begin dying the moment you are conceived, basically, you begin dying the instant you begin living." I think he meant it to be a reminder to make the most of every second because earthly life is quick and uncertain and "fraught with heavy import" -- yes, I thought phrases like that as a kid (is it any wonder I lived in some weird other-world in my head?). This year, this Christmas I see my four children here, seeing our family complete in terms of the characters on the stage -- they all have entered "stage left" and are now, in number, finite. These last 5 years were a heady, swirly "rush" and now I am here. Brad and I are irrevocably changed in ways that we don't fully understand, in ways that we "sort of" anticipated but, in retrospect, had no idea what we were "in for". And now I am middle aged. 36. 36. In only a few months I will be 37. It's okay but I wish my grandma was here...I wish we had more older friends for that wisdom, for that perspective, for that kind of "ballast"? "levity"? "assurance"? We need more old people in our lives.
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Angelina Fernandez was my roommate while Brad and I dated (dated in our own horrible way and eventually married for a marriage far better and more satisfying and healthy than any of us would have guessed). Thursday Angelina moved back to California, without her husband, to live with her mom, 6 aunts and 37 cousins. She moved back to heal and be taken care of and finally get to go to college. I will miss her. I have so many things full in my heart for her -- I am so grateful I got to spend a number of very wonderful hours (thank you, Super-dad Brad!) with her the week before she left -- talking together and laughing and listening and praying.
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Brad had a hard week at work. He is a very good engineer. He is very good at diffusing tense situations and coming up with satisfactory solutions for various enigmas and glitches. He gets yelled at by contractors. He sits in angry meetings. Not always, but enough that I am wildly thankful he "goes out there" and works for us and that it is me here with our sometimes cranky and cantankerous kids. At least they're OUR cranky and cantankerous kids. And people seldom yell at me on the phone -- unless it's my sister -- right, Bekah? (She doesn't do that much anymore, really, and I probably somehow brought it on anyway....)
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I don't know what this post is. Thea was finally napping in my arms and I didn't want to wake her up. Now it is 2:16 pm and the two older boys are awake from their "long" half hour nap -- oh well, a half hour is a half hour and at least Lincoln is still sleeping. Thankful. AND I drank most of my coffee while it was still warm!
