drinking alone

It is a silent moment tucked between the chaos. The silence is different today. It wraps itself around me like a blanket, comforting, soothing, warming. The whir of the laptop, the hum of the refrigerator, the occasionally peep and flutter of the canary sparkles in the weight and gravity of my quiet. Summer break looms on the horizon where moments like these are accompanied with complete fatigue. Soon the race will start with routines and responsibilities enough. For now I drink the silent air.

My children bring with them each an overwhelming vibrancy; I’m uncertain whether I can sustain the exhilarating ride. Can I hold these firecrackers in my hand, amazed at their flicker, but afraid of the show to come? Their energy propels me, their love fills me, their curiosity intrigues me.  How much fuller and deeper and wider my life is with their uniqueness!  Just hang on, I say. I’m so equally in love with and exhausted by my family and I know someday I will turn my aging eyes to see the beauty of what is being forged today and remember not these seasons of fire. So I hold on and stop to drink the silent air.

“Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.”  

**Painting La Mer en Rose by Mary Ann Wakely

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