Sweet Husband did it again.
Sent me and precious daughter—via silver wings—to visit my son and family in Kentucky.
Aunt Mindy on left... her niece, my granddaughter on right. *sigh*
BUT... at every turn--going and returning, Mindy and I found help, graciousness, friendly exchanges, and awesome stories. Some experiences came from total strangers, others from selfless family. Dear Heart’s son took time to drive us to the airport and lift our bags. Precious Daughter’s son met us on our return to lift our bags and drive us to meet up with Dear Heart. Skies were friendly, planes were on time, storms did not last long, passengers lent helping hands, bags arrived at proper places, and sleep came easily.
You see, there are times when a mom must physically SEE her children. It is wonderful to have phone calls, old-fashioned letters, birthday cards, special delivery flowers, e-mails, and I-M / Skype conversations; but those aren’t enough. Moms can’t know for sure unless she touches, hugs, holds, and looks into the eyes of her children.
...including a rousing game of Corn Hole in perfect weathert....
And I got to do that last week. Three whole days.
With my two birth children, daughter-in-love, and beloved granddaughter.
Food, fun, games, and TALK.
Hugs, stories, giggles, and TALK.
Holding hands. Praying together.
Talking to God.
Tossing corn bags, cooking, washing dishes, listening.
And, I eavesdropped on my own son’s conversation with our Father God.
How good it was.
Oh... and a little post script.... my son's wife loves my writing and my son is a history buff, so in an effort to entice me back to my novel-in-progress they took us on a side trip around the block from their new home to the restored historic Black Acre. Oh WOW. Maybe come summer, I WILL continue the adventures of my fictional slave families on their search for freedom....
the writer at a real spring house... 1802 to 2011. WOW
So. For a few hours, in addition to fun and adventure, I was privileged to see, hear, and watch the innermost spirit of my children and my heart is calm. And being home again is good.
Slowly Walking the Road to the Cross,