There really does seem to be enough, but the ways it gets fractured makes it seem fleeting, I think. During this season of life, a lot of my conversations with friends and family consist of fragmented sentences, with interruptions happening like birdshot spraying through everything. But even still, we all do a pretty fine job of reading between the lines, summarizing quickly, and getting the gist of things before our little people come in so hungry or so bored or so on.

I know that I’ll miss these days and that soon, the house will be too quiet and I’ll ache for someone to ask me for fun snacks that I’m convinced only I can provide. 

I had some of that fractured time this past week with my middle sister, before driving back to Colorado. She has the most fabulous cinnamon tea that just makes you plop your butt into a chair and have a healing heart-to-heart or two.

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We were able to squeeze in quite a bit, until Holden came in so bored. She shot me the “understanding look” and Holden and I headed for the trees. Seems as though he wasn’t quite ready to stop being a bear cub.

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Part of the healing process is sharing with other people who care.

Jerry Cantrell