Ok mom, so you know what's awesome?...

David. This was the beginning of his description of his birthday week at school. It's birthday week here. J and D. A year has passed. Interesting what got written. So much did not. I'm not sure what to do about that except to see and think and move forward.
Do you know what's awesome? Driving to Bear Lake in 2010 with the 4 kids in the truck and listening to them sing John Denver songs like one should - at the top of their lungs.
There was a trip from California to Utah that I remember so well. It could have been last Wednesday. I remember Rich got out of the car to pay for gas I think. While he was gone for just a minute, I missed him. I realized for a second that I wanted him to come back. He got in the car and I rested. He sang John Denver songs at the top of his lungs for 609 miles. I didn't like John Denver - had no intention of falling in love with a boy who liked John Denver. And there I was, hoping this boy would always come back to me. That was the first inkling that I had that we may be doing this for a while. That summer he took me to a John Denver concert in Park City and we both sang at the top of our lungs. We went to Bear Lake that summer. To the cabin. I met uncles and aunts and cousins. I slept in a small bed with his sisters and laughed myself to sleep. I'm certain we listened to more John Denver on the way and back, and Rich probably wore that blue and green flannel shirt that I loved to nestle in so much. And that Ford Mustang. There wasn't room in that car for kids. But there is room in the truck. There is room for four. Exactly. And they've arrived. They sing. They love John Denver. And they love the cabin. They play in the sand and play with cousins and they bring me colored leaves and they get cold and nestle in and we laugh at scrabble and sit and stare at each other. And they keep coming back. They get in the truck every time. They fill up my senses. And I can't believe that there are moments that I don't soak in. There are. But I hope I've stopped to listen to the singing often enough that I'll hear it in my head when they aren't in my kitchen anymore. I hope they sing it in someone else's car and some day there will be more little ones tromping through the house singing at the top of their lungs.... I can't wait. Know what's awesome? Time.

...like the night of cloudless climes...

I think this week the name of the game is "feeling like it". I have to figure out a way to feel like it. Feel like going to school, feel like making dinner, feel like rotating laundry. Feel like doing anything but staring out the window.
Do you know those times that come around when you just have to soak in the last few months - years,.... the last decade or so? I think I'm soaking. And I wonder what I'll think of all of it in the end. I hope I'll think it's beautiful.
She walks in beauty.....
That's as far as I want to go. Somehow everything is more beautiful when the light is dim and there is melancholy music in the background. Jim Carrey said "the only thing wrong with real life is there's no danger music". I would probably choose the soundtrack to some gorgeous romantic movie. And then would my life be more beautiful? Dim the lights and turn up the music? Is that it? Will that make me feel like it? If I looked at all the snapshots on a slow dissolve in my mind? Yes...... I'm certain.
There are a lot of kisses on the head. A lot of laughing. Sometimes Jessie and I can't stop. Douglas talks to me. A lot. David is so happy to see me at 4:00 and Corinne can't get enough squeezes in a day. I can't believe I'm in charge of this group. Oh.
And Rich. He and I are just getting started. Somehow that is magically so.

So what is beauty? A slow glance around the room to assure myself that all is well. Children are safe, husband is home and we are - together. In every sense of the word.
I walk in beauty.....


ps - if you read this while listening to something from the Amelie soundtrack - you may just want to be me.