Here I am. A new season. Now what? Oh sure I knew it was coming. I knew all those people would leave. Sometimes I prayed they would leave and sometimes I wanted to leave (insert any story about sibling rivalry here). But today they are gone. All gone. Grown up, starting families, and careers. Adults. I will not be one of those who says where did the years go, because I know where they went. I lived every single one of them. It doesn’t go fast, it just goes. As time has a way of doing.
Today I’ve got two pots of soup cooking as I write. One loaf of bread in the last stage of baking and another ready to take its place. One strawberry cake to make and I’ll be ready for them to descend on our kitchen. There will be more people than my kitchen can hold and the noise level will rival any college stadium on any given Saturday. It’s hard to imagine that any one hears anything as they all talk at once. The food will be devoured bite by bite in between stories and laughter. I’ll clear the dishes and make the coffee and the visit will continue in the den with a game on (it is fall here and there is always a game on when it is fall). And then like they always do, they will leave. And John and I will slip into jammies and watch a little TV and enjoy the quiet.
Sunday. I love Sundays. Most Sundays 6 of our 8 children come for Sunday dinner. Now I didn’t birth all 8, only 4; they are marrying off quickly, with the next and final wedding in April. Most Sundays we eat at 1:00 and I still call it dinner, cause on Sunday there is one meal made and one meal only and whether we eat it at lunch time or dinner time, its dinner. There I’ve spoken my piece and counted to three.
But today is different. Our baby is moving. He is leaving for Dallas on November 17, and so we are having an evening meal, and everyone will be here except my Little Rock dynamic duo (stupid med school). The grandmas are coming. Our two grandkids will be here, (what a deal my youngest daughter made, a hubby and two kiddos). And of course there will be extras. We always have extras, more family in my eyes. For this only child, there can never be too much family.
Bowls will be loaded and we will all head to the table and take our places. And I will watch them, but they won’t know. I will watch how they love one another. I’ll listen to them encourage one another. And I will wonder if these are the same children who fought as if their lives depended on it. Seriously our home felt a bit like the Hunger Games without the cool makeup and costumes. And yet here they are all grown up and as close as any mamma could every wish.
I’ll watch the sisters talk about the babies on the way and the upcoming wedding. The boys will talk about the razorbacks and hunting. And John and I will steal glances and rejoice.