joy

There's my boy standing on the corner in his new sneakers and a button down shirt. Tears welled up in my eyes before I could park my car, his brother and sisters excited to see him while bouncing in the backseat. That funny bit of an awkward moment when they all looked at one another after months apart. I about jumped out of my skin. Could not get around my car fast enough to hug my beautiful boy. Yes, of course, I blubbered while the kids popped around me like pinballs. I'd been anticipating this day for weeks and when it came, it was everything I'd expected. My youngest daughter was giddy on her sibling high. She was giggly and wiggly and happy. My youngest son was smiling, happy to have his brother back. He's been surrounded by estrogen for weeks. Girl t.v. shows, girl games, and girly conversation. Testosterone was finally near. He and his brother and sister got on the X-Box, playing videogames and shooting bad guys. Great fun when you're ten years old. His older sister was quietly content. She has missed her big brother, their high school conversations and having someone in your household that understands what you're going through. I watched her watch him. She misses him terribly. They all do. We barreled into the car and headed off to the beach for reaquaintance and a walk along the pier. Seaweed fights and ocean foam, giddy emotions flitting through the salt air. We people-watched and I watched my kids. I watched them laugh and meld back into a unit. That easy casualness that comes from family, from love. I could not get enough of it. It felt like an elixir to me. It grounded me again. My chicks in the nest while it rested in my hands. It's the new reality, but I'm grateful for it.