To Mom & Dad in St. Louis: Thoughts On A Sunday Evening
I miss the crabapple tree. I mean, I know the crabapple tree on Fir Avenue is still there, I know it still blossoms (I drove by twice this past week) and I know it now belongs to my brother--so it's not like I couldn't sit under it and marvel at its pinkish ways.
But this week I missed it being your crabapple tree which always meant lounging under the carport and spending Sunday evenings talking about nothing. I miss that part of my old life.
Life goes on.
Ever is walking like a half-human/half-penguin. She loves the shaky independence. She'd trek all the way to downtown if I would let her. And I would let her, if it meant she'd pick me up a donut from Provo Bakery. However, as stable as she's getting about her two-legged mode she's still can't tell a nickle from a quarter. And they'd both end up in her mouth anyway.
The Chief is the master of the toilet these days. And if it's a sunny day he exercises his right as a man-child and does his business on the grass. Daddy shakes his head at that ritual, but I say "as long as it's not on the carpet."
Chup is never been so irresistible--is it my pregnancy hormones or his neatly-shaved head? Or maybe it's his being gone working late hours and coming home tired that melts my heart and makes me crazy for him.
As for me? Meh. I thought I'd be feeling like swinging from the stars by now. This pregnancy continues to work as an internal alarm clock, waking me up early with a desperate feeling of GET YOURSELF TO THE TOILET. I am at the stage in the game where everyone wants to know, "What are you having?" I think we'll make this one a surprise too, which Carina says I do just to "piss everyone off" Who me? Does that sound like me? Does this friend even know me?
This week was a frenzy of reports. All the neighbors and friends kindly watched the 20/20 story. Katy mentioned that it sadly ignored the greatest part of the story: faith. But that faith is rarely prime for prime time anyway. Where's the sensationalism in old fashioned virtue?
Tonight as we sat down to dinner with Claire, Jane and Ollie (staying with us for a few days) they talked about their memories of living here while their parents were in the hospital. We laughed about things Chup did to persuade them to obey his rule. We talked about the books we read to each other and the homework we suffered through and the rituals at bedtime and beyond. I looked around the table and remembered that temporary family and realized how only we will ever know how momentous those months were for all of us. How it healed us and changed us. How it felt like floating on time, as we were buoyed up by prayers of the world. It's something a sixty minute segment could never begin to explain.
I said it then, I will say it now, those days were gifts to us.
As are you. Take care of yourself.
p.s. Here's a video Chup made this weekend during Ever's first thunderstorm. It's called, "Bubble Thunder!"
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