Saturday, February 13, 2010
I knew last night, as soon as I shut his door, that I left the phone from my bedroom in my 1-yr-old's bedroom. I thought about going back in to retrieve it, but knew that his restful state would be disturbed, and we would have to start all over with the whole bedtime routine, so I chose to leave it there. Besides, at this time of night, the only person who would likely call would be my husnband to say he was on his way home. So I called him from another phone to tell him not to call the house. I then tucked my daughter into bed and settled down myself for a quiet evening of getting some things done. When I went to bed, the snow was piling up on my front lawn, so I took the den phone to bed with me in case the school system should happen to call in the morning announcing a canceled or delayed school day. Ahh, a delay would be so nice... no snow day to make up, but a relaxed morning of sleeping in... a nice thought to end my day, as my head hit the pillow. At 5:30 this morning I heard my son crying, which was way too early for him, so I turned the monitor off and waited for him to go back to sleep. 30 minutes later my alarm clock went off, and habitually I crawled out of bed and headed down to Kai's room, dreading the morning routine of dragging her out of bed. As I was nudging her and saying her name over and over, I started waking up myself and remembering the weather... and that my bedroom phone was in Eli's room. I hurried back to my room to check the kitchen phone I brought in there last night. It was dead. I ran downstairs to see if the voice mail light was blinking. It was. The message was left by the school at 5:30am stating that school would be delayed. I ran upstairs to tell Kai to go back to sleep, but by then she was wide awake, and I heard Little Man crying still. So here it was, a delayed school day and we're all wide awake at 6am, all because I forgot my phone in the baby's room. Well, at least there would be no rushing around like usual... we had an extra 2 hours!
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
LOBBY OF TEARS
by Kerry Dale Long
An invisible red thread connects those who are destined to meet, regardless of time, place, or circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle, but will never break.
Tears of every emotion swelled my eyes
As the sea of yellow and lime green washed up the elevator
To the lobby on the 4th floor.
The lobby where men and women become parents
Where orphan girls become daughters,
The lobby where families become whole.
My limbs trembled with excitement
Trying to weather the storm of people rushing
Onto the crowded elevator at your heels.
Where are you going? I kept wondering
Worried that the glimpse of you may be the last
Not a rational thought in my mind.
Finally seeing you sitting there
Not truly understanding the chaos within
Made the swelling become a flood.
And then my first eye contact with you
Outside of the gazing at your picture
And clarity came quickly, followed by your smile.
Your gesture simply meant “hi”
But to me it translated into much more
It meant, I know you somehow.
Maybe during some of those moments
You were with me
Clutching that long red thread,
drawing it near.
When they placed you in my arms
And you looked into my eyes,
The red thread embraced my heart
The place I had carried you for years.
Every emotion I have ever experienced
Drenched my cheeks and chin
While your almond eyes danced with love.
Tears for my feeling of completeness
for her feeling of emptiness
for your innocence and sweetness.
Tears for my prayers finally being answered
the closing of a dark chapter of my life
watching Daddy hold you for the first time.
Tears for the shortening of that long red thread.