Three years ago
This morning
As I type, the noise of children around me is akin to the local footy club after a grand final win. It has been an Easter Sunday with a full house. A house jam-packed with children. It’s been a day of nostalgia, the eldest traveller has had a friend here who has returned for the holiday from Scotland. As I’ve wandered by them sitting shoulder to shoulder on the couch, or raiding the refrigerator, or giggling late at night on a sleepover, my chest has tightening with a heart that feels truly torn.
I was there when they first met, age 9 on bikes out on the street. For four years I’ve watched as two families of siblings perfectly matched in age and personalities go through the trials and tribulations of life on the ‘pound. They walk with comfort in and out of each others homes, they’ve cooked in each other kitchens, slept in each others beds and now, cried at each other’s farewells.
In the same way that I can often become confused and think I can still fit into a size 12, I somehow missed just how big everyone had become. The youngest stayed the youngest, the eldest the eldest. Is it possible that I didn’t read the fine print, the bit about everyone eventually growing up? As I looked at the Easter video from only a few years ago I marveled at how much their faces have changed and their limbs lengthened, while their hearts have stayed exactly the same. Different faces with the same emotions.
Wherever they are in the world, whatever they’re doing, their hearts will share a place together, here.
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Beautiful words – as per usual. I am sitting having my cup of morning coffee, eating toasted hot cross buns and chatting on Hangout with a dear friend who lives on the other side of the pond in Canada. We had 2 1/2 years here together before they went back home. Another friend in a slightly different direction over in the UK was here for 6 months longer. We live in a town that relies on seasonal workers -creating a fabulous mix of people, and gives us opportunities for friendship that would not have happened otherwise. But by golly I miss them.
Ha ha. My favorite part: about thinking you can still fit into a size 12:) The back of my wardrobe is FULL of size 12s. Ah, the optimism… One day!!:)