I’m sitting in my comfy chair, cutting a length of material to be sewn. Josh Garrels is playing on the speakers and the children are all around, some in chairs, some on the floor, some reading books, some playing with blocks. And it hits me: I’m going to miss this some day. THIS. Just this. The quiet times when my children are just a presence in the room. A blanket of human bodies humming around me, filling the space with the energy that comes not from noise or action, but the beating of a heart, a breath in the air.
I’m going to miss this, some day.