next time

Next time I would like:

• the same people to not take up so much of the time talking and be glad not to. We all have stories; let's share the time more evenly.
• the quieter people to be noticed and asked questions. I'd like to hear from them too.
• more summaries and less detail in the interest of brevity.
  
• you to skip ahead if we tell you we already know the preface of this story. We don't need to hear it again unless you're adding something to it that we didn't already hear the first time.
  
• to not wash the dishes as many times as I did.
  
• to not care that I washed the dishes as many times as I did.
  
• everyone to think these are reasonable thoughts too and not be offended.
• to be brave and wise and discerning enough to know if/when to bring these things up in person because for now I'm not, which is why I saved this so long as a draft and am only publishing it plenty after the actual event. Yep, totally coward. Judge on.
  

love across the lines

Got to talk to Brett last night, and it was great to hear his voice. Haven't talked to him myself in a month--Kev always fields the calls and somehow they hang up without me. No one's fault, just happens that way.

Knowing his workload is so daunting and heavy this year, that he's been going nonstop without a break, it was wonderful to know he had a fun, refreshing weekend. He and a couple of a buddies went camping. It was an hour's drive, but he said they could've hiked there in two. They went fishing and caught eight rainbow trout. Then they looked at one another and said, "We didn't plan this very well." They went back to town, bought some garlic powder and butter, and headed back to camp. They fried 'em up, and Brett announced that they were "dee-licious." His friend, Tim, cooks them like that. (But Tim also fries the tail nice and crisp and eats it like a potato chip. =) We chatted, talked about Internet stuff, and then he had to go study.

Once a mom, always a mom. This new heart that grows when they're born because the one you have isn't big enough to hold all the love--it never stops wanting for them. Wanting the best for them, wanting to protect and hold and invest in them, to be involved and participate in their extraordinary lives, to matter to them. Mostly mine wants to hear and know their laughter. I want them to know joy. I want them to know peace. I want them swathed in the grace of the righthererightnow.

Thank You for the gift of one phone call. It was dee-licious.