Golden

It is that beautiful hour now. The golden time just before sunset. I think someone once called it the gloaming. The wind whispers through the budding trees. Underneath the soft swaying branches three earnest little pilgrims go on about their daily work. The oldest, brave adventurer sister leads the way, calling out tasks for the younger boys; gather a rock here, a twig there. They are all busily constructing some imaginary playhouse or hideaway, a castle, a cabin, a kingdom all their own. Nearby sits their great white protector and friend, calmly enduring his nightly fur brushing. Their daddy and oft favored playmate smiles at their antics and stops to swing one up on his shoulder or admire a newly caught butterfly.

Everything is still and ripe and golden. The world seems new and untouched. And it is for them. They haven't yet encountered the dragons, the destruction of their castles in the air, the loss of their surety as they canvass the road before them. And it should be like that. The world should still be fresh and budding, ripe with the promise of adventure and full to the brim with hopefulness. The rosyness should still be glistening on the earth they trod. Tinges of sadness and bitterness and regret they partake of each day. And that is good as well. They must learn early to drink the cup-bitter and sweet. Mourn the losses, hold onto the hope. Shake their heads and sorrow at the cracked earth they trod, yet ever looking towards the horizon. The great things to come.

As I sit writing the sun is sinking, casting its rays on the sleeping boy in the swing nearby. Growing and changing by leaps and bounds. How was it only 7 months ago we casually strolled in for a check up and ended up staying to witness a miracle?

Parenting is the hardest gig I've ever experienced. The joys are rainbow rich and the sorrows and sacrifices cut me to the quick. The whys, the whatifs, the unanswered questions often keep me awake at night. I have been so in and out, forever and completely altered by this experience that I cannot imagine it ever ending. And yet it will. This wild ride will end with its laughs and trials and twists and turns and sky high exhilaration. And my little companions will grow beyond us, beyond this cozy nest and go on their merry way.

But for now things are simpler. Seemingly unchanged and yet changing. Our little girl still runs off with braids flying to catch a lizard, the two brothers still tear around on little bikes with teddy bears tucked in for a ride and my littlest chick still gazes at me like his personal fairy godmother, nestling in the crook of my neck and sighing contentedly. And this tiny world keeps on spinning, still within our grasp. And now seems like forever.