We, Terry and I, are at a wee breathing spot…a little time in-between.
All the children and grandchildren have left— going back to their every day lives. We so Love them dearly. But when they are here they are the focus and the intent for the day. All we possibly can do revolves around them.
We also had the most wonderful gift of old friends (who are traveling through) stop for the evening. We talked forever outside drinking iced tea, as the day waned into the evening, watching the swallows flying high and low catching mosquitoes for their supper.
As dark descended we gathered up our glasses and came inside continuing to tell stories from the past, stories that are burned into your mind, memories that make you laugh-out-loud, just like you did those many years ago.
Gradually the glooming turned into true darkness, so I turned on a lamp or two. Still we sat comparing concerns over the economy, where the future is for our children and grandchildren, plans for the near future for ourselves and thoughts about ‘next year’.
Then it was truly dark. All of our senior citizen eyes were wanting to close, yawns were being discreetly stifled, bodies wanting to slump.
It was time to leave.
Later, much later, Terry and I were sitting up in the dark of the night; the silver moon lighting up the room. We sat side-by-side talking about the past week, all the hugs and loves–the swarm of activity —- the grandchildren’s parents coming to spend the night and head back home with our precious little ones. The good friends we have made over the long, long years of our live. Friends, to not only share memories with, but future plans, we decided—it’s okay be old. It has taken a lot of living to get to this place, but with that ‘lot of living’ we’ve had some pretty darn nice things happen.
Your friend on a Western Colorado Farm,