It is eleven twenty five on this Tuesday night. The house is almost quiet and Clementine sleeps at my feet, ready to go to bed as soon as I say it is bedtime. I am waiting up late to give Jacob his penicillin at midnight hearing him groan in his room as he turned in his sleep. I am surfing the internet on a tidal wave of useful and useless information. I am dreaming of a tiny house in the middle of no where and building a different life but then maybe not as another website draws me into a different world. Another place.
Suddenly, without any warning or sound, the Easter lily on the dining room table just over my left shoulder pops into open flowers and sends out the most heavenly scent reminding me of spring, and Easter, rebirth and home when my dad every year came home with an Easter lily for my mom from the grocery.
So pretty. So scent-ful sending me off to a time before I was this adult I am now. Sending me to bed to dream of remembering.