Some thoughts I had today as I was doing laundry:
Why are my children able to fill their pockets with rocks, bubblegum wrappers, phone numbers, work schedules, and flash drives, but are unable to empty those same pockets before putting their clothes in the laundry pile?
Why do we have a laundry pile when there are six perfectly labeled, perfectly empty hampers sitting in the laundry room next to said laundry pile?
Why is Todd unable to sort lights from darks?
Where do all of the socks go?
Why are the aforementioned, reasonably intelligent children also unable to comprehend the purpose and practical use of a garbage can?
Why do I let these little things bother me when I have five healthy, happy children?
Today, Emma had a new friend come over to play. Just over a year ago, this little girl lost her big brother to cancer. I thought of her mother as I was doing the laundry.
This woman had to stand by the side of her magical, vibrant, dark-haired twelve year old as his body was ravaged by an enemy he never stood a chance against. She had to watch him suffer through so much pain that he couldn’t bear to feel her touch. She had to stand by, helpless, as her beautiful miracle was taken from her. I cannot even begin to comprehend how hard that must have been. I only know this: If one of my children were taken from me, my heart would die. It would not be broken, it would not be in pieces – my entire heart would die.
I see this in her. Her heart has died. She is one of the strongest women I know. She keeps going for her other children. She smiles bravely, attends their school events, drives their carpools, and loves them fiercely. But I can see the pain in everything she does. She talks about him constantly, as if to remind herself that he was real, that he was important, that he made his mark upon this world. As if to let him know that there will not be a single second of a single day when she won’t be loving him and missing him. She knows that she will see him again. That someday she will have her perfect little boy back in her arms as part of her forever family. But for now, her heart has died.
And so I have to go now. I have some grass stains to scrub out of my little boys’ jeans. And because of those grass stains, I feel like the luckiest mom on the planet.