Tell Them That You Love Them

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There is NO place like home.

She says as she mindfully thanks her neighbors, some here, some there, ALL treasured and loved, wow we have such amazingly special people in our lives

Then she rubbed her eldest, of the ancient age of seven, caressing an aching back from sledding and a 14 hour car ride at MACH 5, praying with her until her breathing became less labored, praying that we can ask God to tell Daddy He loves him, since Grandpa never did, and asking Him to try to fill that deep crevice in Daddy's heart.

Then her seven year old brilliantly beautiful, but always her sweet baby girl, drifted off into peaceful slumber.

She then was summoned to the room of her youngest.

Always precarious and never boring.

Barterings for book reading bedtime extensions were attempted and quashed.

More of the same prayer, but toned down to his 4/5 year old level.

And hugs and kisses and more hugs and the ever present "if daddy snores tonight will you come sleep with me?'.

Of course I will, my precious and beautiful baby boy. Of course I will.

And with that, both babes are asleep in their own beds, alone, for the first time in weeks.

Not knowing what was up and where was down.

But knowing that normal wasn't there.

But now they are back at normal.

With big deep breaths and sighs of cathartic relief, like no sound I had ever heard from two baby faced children before.

But then, they just learned that human life is not an eternal promise.

Those are saved for eternity.

A concept they are just now beginning to understand.

They know they are warm.

And safe.

And home.

And happy to be there.

And in their own beds.

And these babes of mine, they absolutely know that they are loved and admired and awed and prayed for each and every day.

And they are TOLD that they are loved each and every day.

Which is why we are now praying for the chasm in Daddy's heart to be filled.

The chasm that runs deep and wide, from a boyhood and manhood empty of hearing the words 'I love you' and 'I am proud of you' from a father devoid of that capacity.

Oh, he loved.

He loved many and he loved full.

But he could not say it.

And my dear sweet husband needed to hear it, but never did.

Those three most precious to he love and adore him and slather him with love and attention and pride and joy.

But still.

The chasm.

I take that chasm and lift it high into the graceful hands of the Great Healer.

We will love that chasm away someday.

I just know we will.

And I have found the place where I choose to hang my hat at the end of the day.

Aaahhhh sweet Jesus, Mother Hen has come home to roost.


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