The Family

Lauren, Dean and children arrived on Thursday, and so had all the kids and grandkids hanging around. It was a joy to spend a few days all together. Totally insane, understand, but a joy. Eight little ones six and under. Most days we maxed out the table (set for ten) and two high chairs and some of us ate in the living room. We had lots of laughter, crying, hooping and hollering, admonitions about inside voices, and a great time. Sawyer, oldest grandson, can be so like me in temperament that it is spooky. He had trouble a few nights actually going to sleep because he just wanted to be home. How vividly I remember my extreme discomfort spending the night anywhere but home when I was his age (truthfully, I still have the anxiety, but I've learned to manage, as he will too). I always find the hubbub a mysterious mix of jarring and delightful, and wouldn't miss it for all the world. It's the only time I wish the house were just, well, bigger. Would be wonderful to have a better and more convenient gathering space and dining area. Every once in a while, I just escaped to our bedroom, shut the door, and sipped a cup of coffee in peace, took a deep breath and then plunged back into the riotous and joyful pandemonium. Oh, and of course there was a game of liverpool for the “middle generation” (except Rebekah) and Lauren, I do believe, was the big winner. And now in the silence that is both so peaceful and so sad, Tolkein comes to mind: But all the while I sit and think of times that were before / I listen for returning feet and voices at the door.