Sometimes the weekend is both joy and sorrow.
Good friends and inspiration and dreaming and defining and then, too, teenage traumas and meltdowns.
A throwing up of the hands and a bending low of the knees. My calisthenics.
Tired from the exercise, my distracted mind can't even do the musts waiting unchecked on the list. The calendar is unforgiving and the sun is going down.
When the moon rises on Sunday I think, "Tomorrow, I'll reset and do it all." And then deep in the night, when that moon is mid-stride another son falls ill and I spend hours wishing him well and calling out to sleep that doesn't come.
Reset the plans and make room: for the boy in pajamas, snakes and ladders, applesauce and stories.
Thankful for his sleep when my study can happen.
Thankful for his shows that let me do my work.
Thankful that the fever never came, the storm passed quickly, the blue eyes are brighter at day's end.
Today he knew I was here.
Joy 1. Sorrow 0
