We're mostly packed to leave in the wee hours tomorrow for our IL trip.
I confess, I'm rather dreading it.
As I packed (ha! Can you call it packing? I felt more like an aimless wind, blowing through the house and doing a little here, a little there as I cleaned up after the children and held M.) I marveled at the other things happening around me.
An entire new roll of toilet paper disappeared- into the toilet, I think.
The patio stone is out again.
One child used a razor on his hair (which I did cut yesterday, by the way).
Neighbors stopped. A friend stopped by. We made banana bread and lunch and dinner. Found a library book that was supposed to go back yesterday.
And lots of other things that I can't remember now.
But I exhaled on the trampoline, jumping in the dusk and letting the gray of the sky sink into my heart. I can still jump, and breathe, and feel the air on my skin. In these days when I feel like I'm barely hanging on, there are still moments when I'm gratefully alive.
I'm praying for some moments like that tomorrow, during our seemingly endless trek across half the country.