Alone with the night

Sometimes I wonder as I roam around this rustic lake house in the dark of night…

I wonder how I was granted such gifts in life as I stumble over one of the many bodies that adorn the halls with their peaceful slumber. I gather toys strewn about and effortlessly tuck them away into the safety of the nearest closet, only to be brought out again with the light of the new day.

Carefully I tuck a leg back under the covers from which it has escaped, and gently wipe away stray strands of hair—bending down my lips gently touch the forehead of a sleeping child.

Roaming the quiet house I hear heavy breathing through the cracked doors of several bedrooms; lazily I collect piles of matching pajamas and fuzzy slippers and toss them down the stairs where they greedily land atop the overused washing machine.

Bread crumbs decorate the granite counter tops and small greasy fingerprints cover the glass of the knee high oven. I stumble over the numerous bowls of dog food as I reach over to flip the light switch into the down position.

The bright light of the half moon creeps slowly into the kitchen where I stand facing my reflection in the microwave. Unexpectedly I am overcome with emotions as my thoughts jump and dance in the safety of the hushed night.

I cry for a moment or two … mourning past mistakes and choking on guilt. After several minutes, or perhaps an hour I smile at my reflection with the contentment that I am exactly where I should be...

Here with my family.