I heard children play today
The Man was asleep after a long battle to get him down and still. I sat in the porch swing and listened to the sound of far off thunder wishing that rain would come on through. I heard the faint sound of children laughing.
We sat on the front porch on many such evenings, the Man and I while the kids played in the front. Too little to be running the roads or having friends other than each other, they were content to catch a ball or climb a tree or push a toy truck through the dirt around the large oak tree. We always hurried through our supper on those days to get outside and enjoy the remaining hour or so of the day while the breeze blew away the summer heat and the locust sang their mighty song. The sounds of nature were startling with no engines or air conditioners or mechanical toys to drown them out. I always wanted to sit close enough to the Man to be able to touch him, put my feet in his lap, or reach and steal an occassional kiss. Our kids were happy and laughter filled the end of the day and washed away all the worries about money and weather and crops. They had no idea we were monetarily poor. They were so rich in all other ways.
As they sat outside a week ago, much older, and talked and laughed, they fell right back into their rhythms of constant one-liners and laughter. Now, their children played with the same ease as if they had known each other all their life.
If only there was freeze frame that we could step back in to when we needed the strength. Oh yeah, they call those memoies.