Grown

The kids are home in bed under husband's watchful eye and for tonight, for now, I sit in Mom's kitchen and bask in the glow of lamplight and listen long to the voices mingling. I'm caught just watching, Dad's soft smile, sisters snuggling.  We are all here.  Somehow.

To this ancient house with the creaking kitchen floorboards, we all came back.  7 siblings on a summer night.  Home.

It doesn't happen very often these days.

We're all of us caught in our own orbits, one beginning the journey of parenthood, another the journey of grad school.  More mid twirl in undergrad madness, med school, youngest taking that first High School step.  I'm here as always, living my quiet life in the little house behind my childhood home.  My successes aren't measured in degrees but in the smiles on children's faces, husband's grateful grin at the end of a long day. 

Just for one night, we're back, all of us.  Tomorrow one by one, people will leave and it will be months before this happens again.  We crowd into the living room for a picture, Mom and Dad's seven back under one roof.

At 5'8", I am the shortest.

As we all line up I wonder - where are the little ones?  Always before it seemed someone was small enough to be down in front, or balanced on a hip, or seated on a lap.  Not today.  We're all grown.  When did that happen?

More than anything, I look at my Mom and wonder what she sees.  Her life's work. 7 pregnancies,  years of breastfeeding, homeschooling, always there.  I wonder what I'll see when I am her and my babies, my years of work and love and sacrifice are the adults standing in my living room.

I don't suppose I'll know til then.