Amy's Spoonful of Sugar

*Please note*
This is not our house. It is the house I would aspire to have. We snapped a picture of this beauty on our way to Oregon last year.


Can you see her?

Can you see the little old woman in the rocking chair?

There, on the porch.

She has about a jillion grandchildren around her and they're listening to her read a story.

You can't see them?

hm

Well, can you see the little old man staring at her adoringly?

See, he's standing in the doorway.

You should be able to see his grey, bushy eyebrows from a mile away.

You can't see him either?

Well, maybe my picture is off kilter, or out of focus, or, wait..

I see the problem.

This picture doesn't include the vision I have of my future with Jeff.

It only shows that house as it is now.

Sorry, so embarassing.

It seems so real to me, that I forgot you all can't possibly see it yet.

See, there's me and Jeff, our 6 kids and their kids, and possibly even their children's children.

There's homemade icecream on a hot summer day.

There's a hammock swinging back and forth precariously as numerous children attempt to pile onto it.

There's the gentle "creak" of the porch swing.

There's my head resting on Jeff's shoulder and the happy sigh as we look over what our love has brought us.

There's is the sound of the wind in the trees, the soft whisper of turning pages of a good book.

There's a baby crying somewhere and the sweet voice of one of my daughters comforting her child.

There is joy, and hope, and love and sweetness.

There is the wrinkled skin of my hand, innertwined with Jeff's.

He kisses my forhead as the sun goes down.

The sounds of children slow down as everyone piles into their cars to head home.

"Where are your shoes? Can you go find them please? Will you get her pajamas on her so she can fall asleep on the car ride home?"

"I love you Mom, I love you Dad, this was a great day."

"Do we have everyone? Ok, let's go"

We sit for a few more minutes, waving to them all as they drive away.

I stare into Jeff's eyes for a moment, remembering in an instant all the years we have spent together.

As the stars come out and the breeze slows to a timid whisper, I know it is time to go in.

Jeff starts heading into the house holding the door for me,"Are you coming?" he asks.

"Yes" I say, "I'll be right there, I just need a minute."

So he waits there for me.

And I sit.

I sit and remember every laugh and squeal and happy sigh of the day. I memorize it, capture it, and hold it tight.

When my heart is filled to the breaking point, oozing with the peace that comes at the end of something special, when I can look around and know all is as it should be, then, then I say, "Alright, I'm ready."

And hand in hand we head back into the house, just the two of us once again.