Slow like a Sunday

026

Sunday morning in the spring.

Light shines through the shades just opened.

I sip coffee and sift through laundry interchangeably, with ease—without distraction.

I reach my arm through the inside-out long sleeve of one of Caroline’s favorite shirts and my fingers reach, seem to go on and on, spelunking their way through a long, narrow cave. 

I remember with clarity the day she was born and here I am dancing with a size-7 tee.

Caroline slept alone at a friend’s on Friday for the first time and she was fine—without me.

Quiet Time.

To suspend time.  To pretend time might just be slow like a Sunday.

I finish the folding.  I sip more coffee and spot that chatty cardinal clicking like a clock outside my window. 

I breathe. 

The girls are mine and sleeping.

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Talk to me:  How do YOU slow things down??



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