January 22, 2013 § 4 Comments
The day began with sleepy steps and hope. My son woke slowly, his long limbs curled beneath his comforter as if he were hiding from responsibilities, silently petitioning his dreams for more time. My daughter woke achingly tired after a night spent wrestling the discomfort of a cold; her floor littered with tissue snowballs. My husband woke eager for a new experience, his nerves and hopes as crisp and tangible as his carefully orchestrated attire.
Today each member of my family woke needing a particular measure of space. My children needed space alone, one to wake and the other to fall back to sleep. My husband needed space to prepare for a step he has been anticipating anxiously for some time. I moved among each loved one gauging needs and guiding them into the day. One to school, one to bed, the other toward opportunity.
As the house settles into quiet I will wait for my family’s path to wind back toward home where goodbyes and hellos intersect and our hopes and dreams collect in the space between us.