for Liam

Random day in the life of Liam: Son, most of today was pretty dull. It’s Labor Day and your dad got work washing windows. You and I stayed home and cleaned the house, but nevertheless, you found things to be entertained by. You made my chores light work by drawing laughter from this weary frame. Let’s see, it was laundry, vacuuming, mopping (with our new steamer Shark mop!), dishes, lot’s of diaper changes, etc.

Daddy got home by four and was hungry, and I just happened to be readying a chocolate zucchini cake for the oven. To pair with la cake I continued my experimentations with Turkish coffee-making. Oo, la la! My technique needs improvement. So there we sat, sipping our strong coffee and eating our cake, and there you stood watching both of us- longingly. You immediately walked over to me with a look of expectation (you know who feeds you, baby!), and at that moment I could not bare to leave you out. So you had your first bite of cake- a moist and tasty morsel of gooey, chocolate-ty, whole grain goodness. You asked for a second and third bite- that’s my boy!

Then, you and daddy headed outside to pull a few weeds while I started on dinner. Daddy said you really wanted to eat some blackberries off our thorny bushes in the back, (“Berrr, Berrr!” you say), but we could not let you as we suspect you are having an allergic response to them.

It was Split Pea Soup and Green Onion & Parmesan drop Biscuits for dinner, but you were hungry before it was ready so I whipped you up one of your faves- spaghetti with marinara and “sprinkles” (aka parmesan cheese). Earlier in the day I was teaching you to say: “Pasta!, Pasta!, Pasta!” in my best Italian accent, which you so cutely copied. (not three times in a row though- just once was good enough for you). So you continued this pasta-talk at dinner time. Daddy decided we needed music, which of course we did, and it did what music often does- simultaneously elevated all of our moods- thank you, Jesus! Let's see, it was a Pandora station mix of Owl City and Phil Wickham- random- but it did the trick.

At one point some great song came on and I found it a perfect opportunity for a little air-guitar performance. You, very much pleased, started doing a little air guitar of your own. You were still in your highchair, but one of us got you out- I forget who- but at some point I ended up with you in my arms dancing. Oh, yes, a beautiful worship came on and I held you and led you with one hand around the kitchen. Daddy couldn’t be left out though, so he joined our circle of love and rocked us back and forth in his embrace. We each kissed you and kissed each other. It was a moment to remember, Liam. A somewhat dull day ended in a tiny magical moment of family togetherness. If only I could bottle it up. 

the way to my heart

The way to my heart is to be invited in from the rain and given a seat by the fire, fire that flushes my face with heat and crackles in my ears, and offered a hot cup of tea or rich mug of coffee- the warmth of your hospitality covering me like a well-worn quilt. To be sat with or left alone- a loveliness in either direction, but if left alone, not for good, but you to return and sit with me then.  To hear stories of truth and reminders of hope whether told straight or meandering- forthright or rambling….the sound of your voice….my gaze to the flame- both flickering in synchronal agreement. Perhaps to finally speak and say what I must- a truth I did not know until I spoke it out loud there by the light of your fire.