Beep. Beep. Beep.
It was 6:35 and I was up on a Friday morning. I was sorting laundry in our bedroom before I started the two-story journey I would walk over eight times that day from bedrooms to basement laundry.
I moved two pieces of clothing and was stopped by a sudden need/desire: COFFEE.
I contemplated stopping mid-task to go downstairs and make the coffee, then coming back up to finish. As soon as I had courageously resolved to continue folding, forgoing coffee for another 10 minutes (15 if you count the extra five minutes I’d spend waiting while it brewed), I heard that sweet beep.
Three beeps. Three generous beeps. The coffee was made, ready, and waiting for me.
Downstairs, Drew had made the coffee for me, not even aware I was now awake. He loves me. He really loves me. Without enjoying a drop of coffee himself, ever, Drew has taken to making it for me. Not every day but increasingly more often. And often, just in the nick of time.
Thank you Drew.
Am I wrong Mom?
Oaks came streaming through the garage, trailed by two little friends- aged five and four. They were all yelling.
Oaks: “I’m not wrong!”
Alex: “You are wrong. He is dead.”
Ben: “No he’s not. He’s a baby. You’re wrong, he’s a baby.”
Oaks: “He’s alive. Jesus is alive right Mom? Am I wrong?”
I look at the three boys. Where did this conversation start? What was the first comment? How were they all invested but all in disagreement?
I tried to enter in immediately, but thoughtfully.
” Guys, let’s not point out when our friends are wrong. Lets celebrate each other’s ideas. Oaks you’re not wrong. Jesus is alive. He’s not dead. Alex, Jesus did die, you’re not wrong, he was dead. Ben, you’re not wrong. Jesus was a baby.”
Ben: “And now he’s a ghost. A whispy big one.”
Oaks: “God is the biggest. He is in-con-struct-ible.”
There were more. Lots more comments in a short amount of sweet time. Little boys and big questions, thoughts, and ideas. As they grow up, I can only hope they keep wondering, keep discussing, and do less finger pointing and more other-appreciating, despite differences.
Let’s do this again next year.
A roller blade and scooter ride down the Line Creek Trail with friend Michelle today
Skiing Copper Mountain with Grandpa
Traditions! Valentine’s Day dinner and cake with Mom.
Currently, the Gap Year is a sweet, shiny, success. We are loving being home, being together, leaving town, skiing on weekdays, laying low on sick days, creating something from scratch, and learning together. What we battled in the beginning is refined and days are smoother, trust deeper, and enjoyment higher. Eli was most adamant a few weeks ago that we should do it again next year. Just one more year? The last year before Oaks goes to school.
We are thinking, weighing, and praying. April is decision time.
