"Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to let you in."

-- Robert Frost

Thursday, September 1, 2011

Holes


Yesterday, I removed the chairs from around the kitchen table and Eliza and I played our favorite game called mop the kitchen floor.  We unstuck some cheerios and absorbed spilled milk, unsuccessfully gave that four-year-old glitter glue shmear one more rub, cleaned the baseboards, wiped prints off walls.

I gently placed each seat at it's rightful place and paused with my hand on the one whose occupant vacated long ago. 


Together we took a long, quiet walk to the empty darkness of the basement's furthest corner.  I stood in the stillness and wiped a tear or two for no more chubby legs jutting from its' seat, no more saucy trays to clean, no more sit and stand battles.  


And today, there's an empty hole in my heart where a high chair used to sit.

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