two children couldn’t stand it. mom’s door slightly closed. it was too much.
“mom! you have to see the dining room table.”
sunlight is coming through my windows and from their faces.
and he’s in the kitchen. he’s making hash browns. dad’s famous hash browns.
“they woke you up?”
he pours the coffee in my cup and i’m wondering if i can make it through the day this tired. they point out each sentiment, each detail. a table full of cards.
a house full of love.
a strange thought comes to me then.
he is filling breakfast plates and kids get in their chairs. i wonder how many gallons of milk we’ve drank, how many calls to the other?
“will you stop and get milk?”
the collaborative effort of raising a family on mother’s milk, on a father’s back. the thousand thoughtless acts of being one.
i get the attention today. today i get the time and breakfast and get to be queen.
your day will come next month, dad.
hallmark tries to divide what cannot be separated.
so darlin’ stop at the store, won’t you?
will you pick up what we need?
carry it home in paper bags and we’ll save them. we’ll cut them up and make father’s day cards because you are mother’s day and they are, too.
gratitude list ~ one thousand gifts ~ 1940 – 1958
taking life seriously
people with too much money
that we can’t see the whole picture
the other side of 71
two scoops of jeni’s
changing our minds