Parenting

Morning Coffee

| Marie Griffith

I woke up Saturday morning later than usual. I walked into the kitchen and started the coffee to brew like I always do. I had just enough time to drink a cup while I talked with my husband before I met a friend for our long Saturday run.

Lately I’ve been treating myself to a cinnamon almond milk macchiato after the miles on Saturdays and I look forward to it. But I didn’t need to stop for coffee this Saturday. Before I left the house I realized there was coffee left in the pot so I hurriedly poured it into my Yeti cup to keep it warm and brought it with me.

After the run, I said goodbye to my running partner, opened the car door and smelled the aroma of coffee. As I started the car I wondered why there was so much…….I brewed the same amount I’ve always brewed. It took me a minute to realize why I had a Yeti full of coffee. My daughter didn’t drink her portion like she usually does on Saturday morning.

She was on her honeymoon.

Like I always do, I brewed enough coffee for me and my daughter. She enjoys coffee as much as I do and she’s up early on Saturdays for her work. We sit and talk as we sip our coffee until one of us says, “I have to get ready after I tell you this”.

We both love good conversation and our morning ones are some of the best. So good that sometimes, we can barely pull away.

Her morning coffee routine will be different now. Mine too.

But it will be good.

Growing and changing.

Endings and beginnings.

These are necessary and good and beautiful.

 

 

Photo by John-Mark Smith from Pexels

Blink
 

Possibility

| Marie Griffith

image

My son is doing what I always wanted to do.

Yesterday he flew to Colorado with one bag, a backpack, and no job. Last year he drove from our home in Alabama to a little town in Texas. He had a job waiting there but that was all. After the job ran out, he came home long enough to work at a place making pallets. He saved a little money, bought a plane ticket, and flew to his next adventure.

He’s 19. He says college isn’t for him. Neither is a permanent job right now.

He wants to see places and do things. The kind of things you can do before you get the kind of things you have to do.

I had dreams of doing the same but I waited too long. College and jobs and marriage and little ones took the place of adventures in far off places.

I admire his courage.

One of the first places he explored is wherever this photo was taken. He hiked the mountains near Boulder a few hours after he landed.

He is seeing beauty he’s never seen before and climbing mountains and meeting new friends. He is learning and growing.

And it’s not too late for me to see beauty I’ve never seen before or swim in a different ocean or see a sunset on a new horizon.

In response to the Weekly Photo Challenge Pure and the Daily Prompt Daring.

 

Groundwork

| Marie Griffith

imageWe have the world to live in on the condition that we will take good care of it. And to take good care of it, we have to know it. And to know it and to be willing to take care of it, we have to love it.                          Wendell Berry

The beauty that surrounds my home today is the result of my parents’ hard work.

When I was a little girl we had a plain yard. Grass to mow. An apple tree and lots of pine trees in the back. We had a vegetable garden too. But no landscaping. No mulch or fancy stones or yard ornaments. My parents didn’t have the money or time for landscaping until all of us moved out of the house.

Then that’s where they spent most of their time and a lot of their money. A new yard project was underway constantly. Dad was the do-it-yourself master at anything and the yard was no exception. They planted flowers and trees and mulched and sprayed and laid sod and added stepping stones and edgers. They were proud of their yard but mostly enjoyed sharing it with others.

imageA Fourth of July barbecue, an Easter egg hunt, Mother’s Day and Father’s Day, and Labor Day too. Anytime was a good time to get together and sit in the yard.

My daughter told me last week, “I love how Grandpa planted so many flowers.”

Me too.

We get to experience the bounty of their hard work in the dirt. Their groundwork makes the beauty possible.

Not only in the yard around the house. But in my heart and my memories. In my personality and my character. In who I am.

They did the hard work of teaching us, correcting us and showing us and loving us. They laid the foundation. And it wasn’t easy. And they didn’t do it well sometimes.

They were fighting some tough battles while trying to raise a family. Some we know about. Others we never will. Hardships and addictions and anger and fighting and lying and job losses and lots of bad things happened.

But good things did too. Really good things. Like working together in the yard. Christmases. Playing cards at the dining room table. Sitting on the porch watching thunderstorms.

And apologies and forgiveness and perseverance and love. And all the other good things that come with those.

All of it is groundwork. The good they did, the mistakes they made, the life they lived in front of us.

And we get to experience the bounty of their hard work in the dirt. Their groundwork makes the beauty possible.

 
Story

Midnight

| Marie Griffith

Midnight.

That’s when I crawled into bed last night. The red numbers on my alarm clock glared at me, reminding me that it was way past my bedtime.img_4537

But my sleepy eyes couldn’t steal the smile off my face. And my drained body couldn’t take away the fullness of my heart.

I was very tired when I got home. It was a busy workday, then I led a ladies’ group for two hours. On the quiet drive home, I thought of the few things I needed to do before I went to bed. I decided they could wait.

My plan was to chat with my family, change into my pajamas, wash my face, brush my teeth, then go to bed.

My husband and youngest daughter followed me into the bedroom. They were still chatty. We sat there, talked about our day in more detail, laughed and yawned. My husband got his fill and went into the living room, but his spot on the bed was taken by my 18 year-old son. I was surprised he was home. I don’t see as much of him and his older sister. They’re always on the go…….working, hanging out with friends……just not home.

But he was home last night. He lay across the bed and listened to his little sister talk and talk. He stayed there, interjecting something every now and then. He asked me how group went and listened some more to his little sister talk and talk.

When she was through with all of her words and left the room, he shared what was on his mind. Deep stuff. Life stuff. So we talked. And I didn’t feel tired. And he felt better about some things.

He made his way to the kitchen when he realized he was hungry. I realized how tired I really was. So I changed into my pajamas, washed my face, and brushed my teeth. I heard my oldest daughter come in the front door. It felt as if I hadn’t seen her in days. I went into the living room and sat on the love seat. She sat too and showed me some pictures on her phone. We had a short talk then she went into her bedroom.

She came back before I made it off the love seat. She started talking again. Sharing what she’s been thinking. Deep stuff. Life stuff. So we talked. And I felt really tired but it didn’t matter. We talked and we both felt better about some things.

I finally crawled into bed with a big smile and a full heart.  And I slept.

Because the red numbers on my alarm clock didn’t keep me from the essential things.

 

Bridge

| Marie Griffith

The discussion in the house last night was intense.  At times it was angry shouting.  My 19 year old daughter and her daddy don’t see eye to eye.  Her daddy can’t believe she even asked the question and she can’t believe we said no.  

That’s how far apart we are on this. More and more she isn’t seeing what we see.  Disagreements, tension and rolling eyes are becoming the norm. She is finding her way in this world, working and paying for college.  She feels like she should be able to make her own decisions even when we see it as foolish or dangerous.  

She desperately wants to be out on her own but isn’t quite able to afford it.  How do we make the most of the time we have left with her in our house?   She feels misunderstood and stuck. We feel frustrated and under appreciated. We’re all at a loss at how to come together on this.

How do we find common ground when the divide is so vast? 

One thing I know:  we have to love one another. We have to do the hard thing and keep at it. We have to choose to let love rule instead of our emotions.  

Love is the bridge.  Love is the way we find common ground. 

So now I am giving you a new commandment: Love each other. Just as I have loved you, you should love each other.    John 13:34  NLT. 

Daily Prompt: Crossing