{evidence of life}

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Casey's dresser.png There is no protocol to love.  No hardbound guidelines and tuition charged that engages the heart for pulse.  For beats more than your own.  Love knows not time and considers even less of space.  Unworthy are the earthly tie-downs that bring us to a land tethered just simply to soil.  Love flies. It catapults. It even transcends. Past disagreements and discrepancies, love finds sustenance in the hammie-downs tied to heartstrings.  Laughter. Touch.  Sharing.

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It's in the tesseract of breathes that life becomes evident.  Moving.  Swelling and sinking better into the full of you.  Unaware of it for far too long: we are.  Ashamed we really should be.  Letting schedules and ideas like swiftness gather us all with far too much gusto on a continuum shallow and self seeking completing.

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Absence is the great reminder.  The curtain call for love's fair sake.  Those empty spectacled scenes of space where freedom clings to the pulse within.  We remember & forget simultaneously.  The reasons for joy and for relationship and the silly superficial scratches from the cat called co-habitation. His collar with the bell does tend to annoy here in the now, doesn't it?

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Fine tuned and better rested, our hearts sleep.  In stillness and delightful respite. Our time is back to us.  To where it began. Self sanctity is recalled. The bell no longer jingles.

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Time hides within the evidence. Of life and of existence.  It peeks behind nooks and over crannies just until return.  Then shamefully we begin the toil of checking off, being there and filling ourselves with more.

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Our boys are gone for the week.  Safely their breathes and bodies are in the care of dear, precious friends. Ones who love them like they were their own. The decision was instantaneous and well played.  Boys of home delight in a chance to step outside of the place where mom & teacher both live.

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And toying with the mindset of me and the disappearance of them, I've thought of them at least 1,300 times. On their smiles.  And their soft skin. And their laughter.  Yes, even their annoying jokes of bathroom humor and the incessant jinx that has recently plagued our home.

Evidence of life.  That's what heaven is.  It's that beautiful place where we can both remember & forget. Where love knows not time and considers even less of space. It exists only to swell and sink better into the full of you. Love tethered to this land is just hammie-downs for what forever will feel like.  And that our walk here in among the earthly tie-downs is just exactly why the cat bell jingles.

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I am reminded today of the beautiful evidence around me.  Of  life existing. Of joy. Of relationship.  And I am thankful for absence: the the curtain call for love's fair sake.  May this week be a wonderful time for my sons and sweet glimpse at what heaven is like to me.  I'll think of you 1,300 times more, boys.

Mama :)

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