- Books, Literature, and Writing
My Heart is Well Content
The darkness outside shadows the earth, as my clock beeps at 5 a.m. I automatically rise, walk across the bedroom to kill the blaring alarm, and then I return to my nightstand to turn off the backup clock before it screams at me. This is the start of my day.
As my husband fumbles hand-over-foot out of bed, I resume my morning ritual. In the kitchen, I prepare black liquid fuel to jump-start our day. While the coffee steeps, I busily whip up a delicious energy-packed meal to break my family period of fast.
The house soon fills with the aroma of bacon frying and home-made buttermilk biscuits baking. In these few quiet minutes, an invigorating sensation washes across my mind and I reflect on my life as a stay at home mom. I hear echoes of my daughters’ first words – “DADA”. I replay their first wobbly steps and I remember I was there to scoop them up when the fell. Their happy smiles are like painted treasures in my mind’s eye never to be forgotten and their tears I gladly brushed away. Their sweet laughter fills my heart with unmeasured loved, their arms around my neck forever felt, and their cute wet lips on my face will never dry up.
The morning starts to take shape when my little ones rise to meet the morning sun. Their precious faces never fail to beam through sleepy eyes as they give me good-morning hugs. They act as if they haven’t seen me for days or weeks when it’s only been hours.
There are times when we chase each other through the house on rainy days or we splash each other with water in the warm summer sun. We make melodious music as we sing out loud, often times out of tune. We play make-believe games for hours on end and they like to swing so high until their tiny toes touch the sky. They draw beautiful chalk masterpieces in our drive and make tasty mud pie treats that shouldn’t be eaten. In the back of my mind, I see dishes in the sink and Play-Doh squished beneath my feet, dust bunnies that multiply and watercolors sprayed across my wall. However, I don’t retreat from my post. I maintain on course with our play. Everything else can wait, I decide because I know these days can never be replaced.
And, before I can bat an eye, the day is gone and night-time falls. We, my darlings and I, lay wearily snuggled in their bed. In pint-sized, tired voices, they ask for a bedtime story with their teddy bears by their sides. A hush transpires the room into a lullaby, while droopy eyes stare at the page and as they listen closely to the rhythm of my voice they soon fall asleep.
Tenderly, I tuck the covers beneath their chins and seal a kiss upon each precious head. I stare into the faces of two little angels resting so peacefully in their bed one last time before I extinguish their bear-shaped lamp. A warmth kindles my soul at the dear image I behold. In that tranquil moment, thanksgiving floods my heart. I imagine all the memories that would have been lost if I hadn’t been the one to capture each collective thought. I’m blessed to watch my babies grow into small ladies, like new blades of grass in the spring. I am happy that all of my yesterdays have been joyfully spent without regret or dissent. I released a soft breath with these pleasing thoughts as a smile parts my lips. I know these days are mine for the taking and a career outside the home can wait. For now, this is where I belong and my heart is well content.