I’m writing this from my childhood home in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. Last week my eldest son came home from deployment. I came down with a cold on the day he made it home. I have been battling feeling terrible and greedily wanting to spend time with everyone. He drove up from Ft. Knox with his wife and my grand children. A little girl and a little boy.
In the span of time since his deployment his older sister had undergone a life and death experience and gave birth to her first son. Watching my son hold his nephew for the first time was emotional. Watching my daughter watching her brother watching his nephew – an entirely new level of emotion.
I left work early all week. I cooked dinner at my house – feeling under the weather, I went to dinner at my in laws, feeling a little better and now here I sit, in my childhood home with my mother, father, nephews and nieces.
My nephews have their own babies. They are loving fathers with that healthy dose of humor needed to get them through the perils of parenting. My brother announced a major promotion, my mother is still beautiful, she is a cancer survivor, the disease has tried to take her down; but she is a pugilist. I had the added bonus of seeing my beautifully grown cousins.
These moments don’t happen often.
My granddaughter asleep against my arm as I type these words. My grandson is still up, still eating. It is 11pm. I try to post something new every week; but this week I just haven’t had time to write down everything that has happened. I’m in the moment. It is 11pm and I am tired, and I am immensely contented. I’ll write it down tomorrow, tonight –
I’m living it.