In Celebration of Flies in Late December

When my toddler grandbaby girl leaves after a long day of visiting, my back aches, yes, but so do my arms and not from holding her. The minute she and her mom, my beautiful first born,  drive off - my arms are painfully empty; they already ache to hold her. These arms have had the privilege of holding her throughout the day, whether she is marveling at planes overhead, sucking on a bottle or listening to books by the bushel. 

I think back over our day as they pull  away and I find myself standing alone in the parking lot, smiling like a fool. Who else on this planet would I stand with (for a full ten minutes) watching flies crawl on daisy- mums in late December? I still hear the emotion in her tiny voice, both repulsed and over-joyed, "ewww, eww, ewwww!" It is impossible to worry about such things as never-ending divorce issues when I am in the midst of moments like that. Such is the power of 25 pounds of innocent energy.  

It takes me at least a half hour when I come back into my apartment to stop looking for her. I startle every few minutes, afraid that she might be tugging on electrical cords, or tasting pennies or reaching to pull the laptop off the table. It is a decidedly lonelier place when she leaves. 

 We gathered pine cones today and wrapped up little presents for her mom and dad.  These are bedraggled, sticky, and perfect. I think how happily my heart beats now that she is in the world - a stubborn little girl who has come to us out of the blue because my girls and I all needed her to be here. God sent us re-enforcement, adding another link to this small circle of broken- hearted women. A mighty link, brand new and in love with this world, a world where pine cones are really truly treasures and flies are still abuzz with wonder.