Friday, December 11, 2009

december friday

Chuck's place is off Williams street, it is the top floor of a house, and not a large one. The ceiling is low but tall enough for a young man over six feet. The stairs are steep, wooden. Natalie was cooking pasta at the stove. I visited briefly. He had invited me, "Want to see my place Mom?" Well, of course. But that was earlier in the week, before the nights of work. There is a small list of things he still needs, a CO2 detector being one. "Do you have a co2 detector up here?". "What's that?" But there was that faint smell of gas from the oven and the place was small and the gutters outside were full of leaves and twigs, were overflowing, and one worries and prays, but one is not to worry, but to pray and trust...oh one...nonetheless, he will get a few early Christams gifts. He will get a detector.

It is colder now than it has been. The furnace runs, if not continuously, then frequently. What has been going on around the house? Richa appeared briefly last night, then Ray, going out, asking for gas money for the car. And Dylan and Alayna were laying on the couch. I had built a fire in the fireplace and it was in embers.

Today Ahmahn (phonetic sp.) arrives, flying up to the small local airport from Texas. Richa will pick him up. She must be happy, exited. He will be here this afternoon. But now it is just after six and there is light already on the horizon, that first beautiful light of dawn. Last night was a night off work. Blessedly off work. Yet still, I wake early to see the kids off to school and to watch the sunrise. The beauty of working nights is the gift of always seeing the first light of day, of watching the days shorten, mornings coming later, only to lengthen again. Indeed, there is a season for everything. How beautiful is life.

"He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men..." Ecclesiastes 3:11.


  1. It must be a parent thing... Ben's parents just gave us an early present of smoke detectors & a CO2 alarm. HA!

  2. I suspect it is that protective mechanism we, as parents, never get over. just wait...