The Keeper and the Guardian
There is something in this moment that grabs at my throat and pulls at the tears gathering in my eyes. Something that makes me aware of every breath I take, and every beat of my heart. Something elusive and fleeting, and I worry that if I don't sit down and try to capture it in words on paper it will float out the window on the warm gentle breeze blowing through my windows, carried away with the sunshine and sound of birds. I hear it in the sounds of laughter and voices calling from outside, as Heather plays on the swings and Hazel dumps sand on herself in the sandbox. I am in their bedroom, the window just above where they play. I watch their tiny bodies as I fold laundry and pick up the flotsam and jetsam of childhood that is strewn about their room. I hear it coming from the next room, as Hallie giggles softly to herself. She is surrounded by piles of books that have been pulled off the bookshelf, in careful search for the one that was just right for the afternoon.