Sunday, July 21, 2013

In My Pocket

Sometimes life feels a little harder than it should. The carefree Summer of my dreams blurred into one mired in illness and fatigue.

But you'll have days like these.

Just as swiftly as they swept through June, they'll leave again. I'm sure of it.

In the meantime, we take the gifts as they are handed to us.
We wrap our fingers around them, memorize their shape, stow them safely in our pockets.

I went to a little party last weekend, and it did my soul some good.
The stars aligned and the air fell just right.

It wasn't what my kids needed, what Cory needed. It wasn't about helping or obligation or watching Silas from the corner of my eye.

It was just for me, and I guess that's allowed sometimes.

{Our gracious and lovely hostess.}

So, we basked. We reveled. We I took over 100 pictures, because there was more beauty than I could handle, and because the light kept shifting around. It begged to be captured. My mind wasn't enough for the memorizing.

We landed somewhere out in the deep end, and we decided to stay. Because these are some of my people. They are newish additions and half my youth. They shape me and encourage me.

They make me chocolate tarts and don't bat an eye when I keep going back for another one.

They love me. I love them back.

We stayed until the sun hiked down past the edges. We stayed 'til the bugs bit like they meant it. We stayed while the air thrummed then hushed, our shadows casting love on the walls.

We stayed while the music slowed and the glasses drained.

We stayed because all of us, every one of us, needed that night. We needed it then and we need it even more now. Because as Summer 2013 winds up, this is a memory we'll carry with us.

There will be a next time and it might involve sweatpants, under-eye circles, and 2-liters of generic Diet Coke. We'll hold it just as fiercely as the fancy, seeing the wonder in the simple and abundant gift of friendship, the coming together of all different hearts to walk together through all our come-what-mays.