There's something about this day though.
I got off work tonight and had a few lose ends and logistical matters to take care of, but in the end, as I walked back, I decided that it was one of those nights that only come every so often.
It is one of those nights when senses are elevated beyond typical stimulation. It is mild out and the wind is blowing ostentatiously from the south, as if it is striving to be noticed. The aroma of spring is sprawling itself out: lilacs are in the youth of their blooms; rain is on the horizon; manure is fresh upon the 6 year old's garden across the street. I felt like I was in the Garden, as I rambled and tarried along the paths with a joy no other has ever known.
It brought me back to a remarkable place of memory and happiness. The wind brought me back to when I was young and I would get out of the pool after our night swims and my parents would make me strip down in the screen porch, so as to not get water all throughout the house. I can remember the chill of the water on my skin as it dribbled down my stomach onto my bare legs, and then Dad wrapping a dry towel around me and telling me to go into my room and put on my pajamas while Mom made popcorn and lemonade and he made me a bed on the floor. I can remember falling asleep on that floor with the door to the screen porch still opened wide, letting those same southern winds blow in upon me. Sometimes I would wake up startled next to a large bug that had wandered its way into the house. However, more often than not, I awoke to him carrying me to bed.
I will never forget that first night that he made me walk to my bed myself because I was getting too big to be carried. He was standing behind me the whole time, letting me lean against him when I got too tired while traversing the expanse that is the length of our hallway. But even then, I think that I realized life wouldn't be the same... And yet, he knew when to let go. He would have carried me to bed and prayed by my side every night for the rest of my life if he could have.
In the midst of the growth that has come to pass and that I am undergoing, I realize now that there are times when I want to be carried to bed again; when I just want someone to do that dirty work for me; when my plans have failed me and I don't know what will come next. I want to be placed into bed, the covers drawn, with an old episode of Love Boat on in the background, which was strategically shut off after I had fallen asleep but before my parents went to bed. But I know that would do nothing for my ability to put myself to bed now.
And I know that in the midst of misplaced plans and forgotten motivations, there is Someone who is standing behind me, guiding and making sure I make it across the vast distance of the hallway.
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