While Dad’s Away

This is the nature of his work, what he’s been given to do. His work isn’t here, it’s there in between the peaks I can see from the rooftops of this crowded valley. This was the second time he’s been away, it was longer than the first. This time though, he had more company. Maybe it was that fact and also the fact that I’d survived once before that made this time easier.

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Welcoming The Storm: Our Home Birth Story

I almost did it, gave into the madness. Throughout the day it wiggles its way into my thoughts and what a victory it is to say I’ve told it, each and every time, no, just no. You can’t steal my joy. Because today, today the sun is shining. Birds are chirping their song through the trees’ whistling leaves. My girl is doing silly somersaults in my belly. I’ve no time for anything other that sitting and dwelling in each beautiful truth present here and now.

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Dirty Dishes

“This is one of those things,” he said. I wasn’t sure what he meant but I cocked my head to the side, inclining an ear, offering him to explain why the piles and piles of dishes in the kitchen were one “one of those things”. “Whenever I see this,” he continued, “I think, man that was a good night.”

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Distance & Thankfulness

This year, I’ll celebrate Thanksgiving in a country that doesn’t recognize it as anything but an ordinary day. But that’s no reason not to be thankful. This year, we’ll continue the tradition of Thanksgiving breakfast but it will just be us and our cat. Maybe in the years to come, it will grow to include more. But for tomorrow, I’m thankful for our little family to be around the table. The solemness of not being with family builds in my heart an even greater thankfulness for them. Memories of last Thanksgiving, when I knew I’d be far away the next year, play around in my mind. I remember being thankful for so much:

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A Normal Morning

Mom has always been a morning person. I’ll remember forever that big white robe she wore in the mornings when I was a kid. It showed her smallness, the bulky baggy thing that it was. I always knew the time to wake up was coming when I heard her shower shut off. The light from her room across the hall would drift into my bed and bring my sleepy eyes to open. It was a warm light, deep and orange with traces of steam coming from the open bathroom door. She’d slip on her robe. She wore it when she’d get me out of bed. She wore it while she read the Bible under a lamp on the couch. She wore it while she put on her makeup and blew her hair dry. She wore it while I stood next to her, borrowing her hairbrush and doing it like she did. She wore it while she made us breakfast.

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