A boy…

Lin Pattullo

… is a magical creature – you can lock him out of your workshop, but you can’t lock him out of your heart.

Source: Allan Beck

Image: Lin Pattullo

Inky:  I just got off the phone with my eldest and my weekly lecture.  It wasn’t too long ago I was the one talking earnestly, intent upon he and his youngest brother’s attention.  Somewhere between then and now, roles switched and now I am the child, and they the parent.

Even though I remember the nails to the head, the fire truck to the eye, racing down the heavily wooded hillside on bikes, disappearing to go fishing, painting their grandfather’s car, the restaurant in my basement with the pantry’s offerings for the neighborhood and the unit in the local ER with our last name on the door.   My boys are my laughter, and my solace….

… and now they are my worrier’s.  With families of their own they still worry over their mother.  Which is why the weekly lectures make me smile, my heart squeeze, and my eyes light.  What a perfectly wonderful way of letting me know they love me….

… even though every conversation ends with, ‘I love you, Mom’.

Mood/Doing: Happy…   sitting in the dark feeling cherished.

Listening to:  a quiet home… a symphony of crickets…  and the wind through the trees.

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