About a year ago, I wrote this, about working on a boat with no appreciation.
About 5 months ago, I wrote this, wondering how the prodigal’s mom might react upon his return.
Today, I simply write this:
Two very happy little girls are in our family room right now, after a day of dance classes and a trip to Gramma & Papa’s, no naps and lots of energy, dropping temps and a coughing, cabin-feverish Mommy with little patience left, jumping on the lap of their brother, sharing cake, beaming.
…because he is spending the night here tonight…because, when Randa asked, “Did you bring your pillow?” he said yes.
Because he has come back to live with us again.
There is no dramatic statement. There is no divine healing of all past hurts or perfect answer to all disagreements.
What there is: peace, understanding, four siblings aged ‘almost 3,’ ‘just turned 4,’ ’17-and-a-half,’ and ‘nearly 20’ under one roof for a little while longer, and two parents who feel, at the end of a season fraught with the peaks of righteousness and affirmation and the valleys of criticism and doubt, like the right thing has happened.
That said, thank you to some very special friends, family members, and even acquaintances and internet “strangers” who reached out to us and helped instill wisdom without judgment during this last year in terms of “loving our prodigal.” The fatted calf was a pleasure to prepare and indeed tastes yummy.