It is Thursday.
Driving boys here and there. I have driven the long and winding roads up and down this hill more than a half dozen times this week already. Laughter and silence have both filled my car while doing so. Talks about what's on the horizon. Talks about what now lies behind us.
Stirring the pot that sits on the burner. I have gone through the motions of preparing three meals a day for this army of men that I hold close to my heart. This troop that never stops eating! I do it with a happy heart most of the time because they are never anything but grateful for the food that fills their stomachs. All it takes is a smile on their face to please this mama cook.
Holding the youngest that still lets me. Snuggling with the two that feel they are too big to be held. Comforting their tired and worn out bodies as they have struggled to overcome yet another winter flu bug. Applying the Vicks rub to their chests, placing my hand upon their hot foreheads to check if they have cooled down yet. Praying over them as they lay their heads down to try to sleep... again.
Sorting, washing, drying and folding the multitudes of laundry. Noticing the smell of dirt as I pull them from the basket... And then the smell of clean as I pull them from the dryer. Seeing with my own eyes how they have grown so fast. The tiny little socks that once used to get stuck in the lint trap have grown into a size bigger than mine. The shirts no longer have cute little bugs or trains decorating their fronts. Instead, there are favorite baseball teams and silk screen guitars.
Sitting at the dining room table with my big bright pink pen. Correcting their school papers. It's easy to see where they have come so far, and then areas where there is still so far to go. I mark the papers with words of encouragement instead of those that imply failure. Every child deserves that. We sit and figure out where they went wrong. What step was missed... Perhaps even just forgotten. We learn what needs to be learned again until they get it correct on their own. Victory!
I tape the boxes shut. Boxes that hold belongings of ours. Boxes that hold... Home. I label them and stack them. They are to be moved in just a few short weeks. Those weeks will fly, I know. So much to be done still. So much to be packed and cleaned. I keep the roll of tape going.
All in a week's time. Every moment lived out. Every breath inhaled... Then exhaled. Every blink of an eye. It is the life that I live. A life that I have recently learned how to slow down and savor... Even in the chaos that surrounds me. This life that is being recorded.
Moment.... Written upon the pages of a journal.
Written upon the pages of my heart.
Thanksgiving... EVERY day.