Yesterday My Farmer stopped in, between haying jobs, to have supper. After the meal the children disappeared outside while their father and I continued to ‘cuss and discuss’ (as he would say).
The hay was still calling, so eventually I walked him out to his truck. We could hear happy, distant voices after I kissed him goodbye, so we wandered out toward the barn to see what was happening. This is what we found:
Their words were spilling all over one another in their mad rush to tell us all about the game they were playing (hint: it involves Star Wars) and my heart was so full with love for them…for everything about them. I had one of those moments where time stopped, where I became certain I would always remember how I felt in that instant. Somehow I sensed I was putting away a memory I could take out time and again (and again and again) as the years go by, as I grow older and they grow old – I can bring it out and remember just how I felt. I can feel that happiness again.
This doesn’t happen very often. The last time it happened to me was the week my Little Cowgirl was born. My grandmother came from Vancouver to stay with me. The boys were two and four. We were sitting on my porch, watching my boys play in the grass while I nursed my infant daughter and shared a snack together. My grandmother asked me for the recipe for the banana bread we were eating. I will never forget that moment.
I was absolutely sloppy with happiness to be sharing the ‘forever’ moment yesterday with my husband.
I looked at My Farmer and choked out “Look at them. Aren’t they just fabulous? We are going to miss this SO much.”
He never took his eyes off of the children he made with me.
“I already do,” he answered.