"And sometimes I probably haven't been the best example," I say.
Nose to nose with Lucy, I gaze into her wide and watery eyes. An almost invisible nod.
"It's probably really easy to see when I do it," I say. "But it's wrong when I do it, and it's wrong when you do it. Will you forgive me?"
She shatters into tears. "Yeah," she says. We both nod arms wrapped in an oaken hug. With that we carry on. With the face of fresh morning she smiles into my eyes.
"Ok," I say. "Let's go out and help finish the dishes."
"Ok," she says and we return as if feathers alit our shoes.
6448. Mom returns from Montana. All the assurance and love that trails an invisible wake behind her sets my world straight.
6449. Jane has her first babysitting job. She steps into the new responsibility outside of our home with grace and confidence.
6450. I find the perfect tote bag to carry our adventure needs as these children get older.
6451. A dear friend brings me a plate of oxtail.
6452. Another dear friend connects us with Blue Apron and sends us some meals.
6453. Nourishment finds us. I sit in the stillness of this kindness and drink it in.
6454. My dad, like most Saturdays, comes over to help us more on the kitchen. I'm growing fond of seeing him each Saturday.
6455. Bit by bit we work away. Now we do most of our dishes up at the new sink by hand. As we stand, the many of us filling the kitchen, washing dishes, clearing the table, finishing food, I look and marvel that it doesn't feel crowded, just clean and simple. The nine of us being together fills me with nourishment.