Calm and quiet as a Sunday morning. Calm and quiet on a Sunday morning.
Me - pinteresting words that find my soul. You - learning to snowboard via you tube.
And, as the girls awoke, the table filled still more. One by one, your side of the table filled. Rather, the side newly claimed as yours. One chair pulled close to your left side to watch the lessons. One pulled to your right to shyly join the crew. The final girl, always the one in her own world, quietly staking her claim to your presence in the background.
Me, watching the world get a little tighter at my little table.
Is this what we should have always been doing? My girls and I? Should we always have had someone to slip so easily into our Sundays? Was there always supposed to be someone to smooth my edges and warm the big chair in the room? Is it supposed to be this easy?
Warm coffee in my hand, more snowflakes to add to the pile of reasons to stay inside, three subtly happy girls, and you.
One look across the table and every question was answered.
Sunday mornings have come home to my table, and I will forget the time we didn't know their name.
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