Simplicity

The girls are home, my daughter from college, my niece from dental school for fall break. The two of them together again. Last night as I drifted off to sleep the girls were warbling some tune in the living room, and I thought of all the nights lately that I drift off to sleep listening to my son in the next room cracking up with laughter at some late night sitcom, and I thought, Yes, this is simple and good. 

My husband is at the kitchen counter arranging flowers for church tomorrow in honor of his late mother's birthday, which would have fallen on Monday. He left the house early to go down to the flower district to choose his stems. Saturday morning soccer, such a familiar sound, is on the television, turned low. His work is patient and meditative. The girls are at the hair salon and soon they will tumble through the front door in a rush of talk and laughter and the air will shift again.

Outside the sky is blue and the trees are swaying in a brisk fall breeze and I have been occupied with editing stories that I love, by writers who are passionate about their craft, and this is a gift, an inlay of gold in the brass of my recent circumstances. I have money concerns, it is true. But my cousin Helen, a life coach and empathetic healer, has been talking to me about staying in the present moment, trusting my life will unfold for good. Already there have been small miracles, even in the midst of the thing I really should not talk about so I won't.

My son left yesterday to travel north so he can help celebrate his heart brother's 21st birthday in grand style. He's been enjoying his EMT course, and finding that he's really good at it, having already studied much of the material in college. On Thursday night after my niece arrived, the two of them were talking animatedly about medical-training things, with enough details to make me utterly squeamish and convince me that I would not have lasted a minute in that field.

My boy has started his job too. He's coaching track for a high school here in the city. Once he's EMT certified, he'll try to get on with the Fire Department or an ambulance corps, though he has not given up on the idea of spending next year abroad, traveling the world with one of his buddies. I hope he does whatever his heart dictates. I love having him home for this spell, though. And having them all here—which I will for two whole days after our son returns home on Sunday—is just cake.