We are in Virginia visiting Sammie. It is so good to see her. I am so proud of her!

Last night we went to a restaurant for dinner. We got to reminiscing about our old home. Sammie has few memories of the house, but I remember it with nostalgia. Luke did not want to leave that house. (He was 5.) He said his sister was more fun in the old house.

We talked about the time Sammie squirted glue all over the new kitchen floor and her dad’s tools…. About the time Luke got into a can of paint and painted a design on the floor of Wes’s shop, then used the wall to clean off his hands….about the time Sammie scared her dad when he was up on the roof painting, making him almost fall off…. About living in the new house and the old house and building and trying to carry on a normal life all at once…. About the apple trees…. About the little house wes built for the kids to play in….

All that caused me to remember other things about that house. One time Luke wanted to go see his dad in the side yard. Instead of walking over to him, he decided to walk around the hedge. This took him extremely close to the very busy road that we lived on and he was only 3 or 4. I remember an extreme fear. Perhaps it is this instinct a mother has to protect her children that causes such fear and such intense pain if she is unable to keep a child safe.

The summer do 1988 was very dry. We went for what seems like months without rain. It was hot, too. We played outside a lot, but mostly tried to stay cool in front of the fan (We had no air conditioning.) reading books. I’ll never forget the day it finally rained. We had gone to get ice cream cones after playing at the park in Uniontown. It started raining on our way home. By the time we got there, it was pouring. The kids and I started laughing, running all over the yard, and putting toys in the garage so they wouldn’t get ruined. It was fun, and the rain felt good!

All this reminiscing made me dream about Luke last night. It has been a long time since I remember a dream about Luke. It was good. Sometimes when I dream about him, it almost feels like I got to spend time with him. The only problem is waking up. In my dream Luke was about 12 or so, he had plans to build a top for the ping pong table and surprise his dad. He was measuring and planning and talking about how happy Wes would be. He said this would make it the best spring ever. The details of this dream are already fading. That’s the other problem with dreams, they never stay in the memory long enough.

I miss my little family. I miss my little kids. Mostly, I miss Luke.

Please remember to visit my book’s website: http://www.noordinarybones.weebly.com

 

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