November 27th
Originally published at Lindsay Eland dot com. Please leave any comments there.
Right now I am sitting upstairs on the bed, my legs stretched out in front of me, my computer resting on my lap, and the sun piercing through the window blinds making long, bright lines on the carpet. The sky is a brilliant blue-a blue so deep and rich that it makes you squint your eyes and search for stars.
The kids are outside sledding in the backyard-laughing, squealing, and yelling in turn. Their cheeks are pink and so are the tips of their noses.
John is working on his computer downstairs, designing a house that he hopes to build for us someday. He says that maybe it’ll never happen. He says it’s just for fun. But I know him. I can see the spark of a dream lit up in his eyes. And I don’t wonder “if”….I just wonder when.
And my heart is up here in the bedroom as I type these words, and it’s outside sledding, and it’s downstairs dreaming.
I think at first, how can that be? That I can be in three different places at once.
But then I realize it’s more than just three. So many more.
My heart is also in Pennsylvania, and Oklahoma, and Texas, and Florida, and Oregon. Pieces of my heart-of myself-that I have given to family, and friends, those close-by and those all over the world.
And you’d think logically that the more pieces you gave away the less you would have. That’s just the way things work. But that isn’t the case. My heart has only been made more complete now that so many of the pieces are gone. I’ve realized that when it comes to love and family and friends, one minus one equals two.
Sometimes life works backwards and sometimes things don’t work logically.
Sometimes you can be upstairs, and outside, and downstairs, and all across the United States all at once and never be happier.