In the soft light of the morning I sit with coffee and quietness. My three-year-old baby girl sleeps. Rain falls, and fog settles over the mountain in front of me like a bridal veil. The old cat pokes about the deck, unenthused by the food my son hastily dumped into her bowl.

The moment before, a sort of beautiful chaos. A fifteen year old girl whose last question was, “Do you like my outfit?” A twelve-year-old quarterback, the cat feeder, who snapped at me in his haste, then stopped to say he was sorry–quick hug–and out the door. A little girl, dressed up in red, white, and blue for some patriotic-themed day at school, a braid and a bow, hugs and kisses and innocence. A fourteen-year old-German, lent to us till end of October, bewildered by warm fall weather, distracted, tired from last night’s American football game. And my husband, the coach, their ride. Recovering. The veil has lifted now. Click To Tweet

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