At 11 p.m. the other night my son and his friend spontaneously began jamming in the basement, choosing a violin and a guitar to rock with. The sound was super cool!
I stood near the closed door in the dark hallway of the kitchen and just listened.
As they finished, I pulled opened the door, and I clapped while it echoed in the stairwell.
In their surprise they laughed through the wall that separated me from them, then thanked me for being a loyal audience. I called down good-night, and the door made that distinct creek when I closed it while they went back to jamming.
I smiled when I crawled into bed still listening to the rock music two floors below.
It calmed me exactly like a lullaby!
How many spontaneous, off-the-fly moments have I captured just like this one?
These are my treasures!
my last child of five
graduates from high school.
As I wrote in my journal this morning, I watched from my window, my neighbors walking their five year old boy to the bus stop of his last day of kindergarten. He was running ahead and his daddy had the backpack swung on his shoulder, scurrying to make the bus. With big bushes in my view, I could hear the screech of the bus wheels and then the push of the gas pedal as it drove away.
A flood of memories filled my mind of so many moments with five children on the last day of school.
So many years worth.
So many unplanned, spontaneous moments.
And so many clapping times.
Today when my son’s name is called to pick up his diploma,
I will be his loudest clapper.
I have been all along!
This day is a monumental last for our family
but it will not be my last clapping day.
I can’t wait to crawl in bed smiling, on many occasions to come.
You will change the world, my boy!
And I will always be clapping for you.
Today may be closing a chapter in our lives, but being a mom awards me the gift to always be the loudest, strongest and proudest clapper for all my children for the rest of their lives.
This makes me excited for what is on the horizon ahead!
I would like to share my most favorite poem on this special occasion in honor of this day to my husband and children:
Bits and Pieces
you will do
Millie Foster Cheesman
wearing real names on their wrists
for a cause
walked in their shoes!
One was mine…
History is made up of real stories of real people.
What do we live for– or perhaps are passionate enough to die for?
For them it was 1,990,000 steps west, into the unknown, to freely worship without being killed–carrying the knowledge that most would die trying.
And so many did.