Slow

October 17, 2024

The sun lazily dipped below the horizon and filled the sky with cotton candy clouds. The warmth of the cat on my lap soothed me into a trance-like state as I listened to the little laughs of my daughters racing up the hill toward me. Evelyn had just turned seven the week before and we had a forest fairy themed party for her, complete with wildflower crowns and clover necklaces. Her younger sister, Serena, was already making plans for her fifth birthday, which was another six months away. A rich smell of chili wafts out the front door just over my left shoulder that my sweet Sam was making. He is the best cook, and loved to cook, so more often than not, I let him be the king of the kitchen.

Hearing the girls nearing the house, the cat that was curled up on my lap yawns and stretches sleepily, launching herself off my lap. Joining her in her slow yawn, I stand up from the old rocking chair and prepare to topple over from the affection of my littles. The cool air is pulling hair out of the low bun resting on the nape of my neck and sending a shiver down my spine. As the girls break over the edge of the hill, I can tell that both of them are wet and dirty from the creek that has all but frozen over, but that could never stop these two from getting knee deep in creek sludge. Good thing I had just done laundry that morning, because these were their last pairs of tights and wool dresses. I feel a laugh well up in my chest and yell inside to tell Sam that we are going to have to do baths before dinner tonight as I feel two little bodies run full speed into my legs.

The air is filled with laughter and Sam walks out to see the three of us sprawled out on the front porch, covered in cold mud and flushed cheeks all around. He laughs and says he is off to run the bath. Both girls squeal and run after him, leaving me cold and muddy, on my back on the porch, and filled with more joy than I would have ever thought possible.