Last Monday, as we readied boxes and bags for the Tuesday move, we worried about the weather – the clouds parted and the movers from Maryland and Texas converged –depositing the bits and pieces of our lives: the living room rug that I saw first in my husband’s bachelor pad was unrolled, and the memories of our children playing, crawling and toddling spilled out.
Many open-hearted friends and family pitched in – with concrete, kind help – bringing food, muscle power and encouragement. By Thursday night – because of all their help – we could find our way around the house, and our son and his wife flew in – through the crazy weather – and we had a fun time – content to leave the chaos. Friday night the Texas family and friends entertained them and us.
Saying good-bye after breakfast this morning was hard – the feelings reminded me of the Sunday we left our son at his college: for years I knew the day was coming – yet was somehow surprised that time did not simply stop.
. . . Time, like an ever rolling stream,
Bears all its sons away;
They fly, forgotten, as a dream
Dies at the opening day . . .
But just for today I remember the kindness of so many and the love of the best kids a mom and dad could have, and God who made such a wideness in His mercy it found out me.