All, Nothing, or an Imperfect Something

Mathäus had been gone a handful of days when we hit our first scheduling conundrum. We had set his first home visit two weeks out, but since he had been selected to play club soccer at school that wasn’t going to work; he now had his opening match that weekend, and since it was an away game, a trip home just couldn’t happen. That pushed out his visit to the following weekend… when Jack was scheduled to be away for a Civil Air Patrol event. The next weekend was no better. As a matter of fact, someone was pretty much always guaranteed to be coming or going.

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As You Go

I remember well the day you were born. Maybe it’s unusual, but at each moment when I’ve received a child into my arms to nurture and raise, I’ve thought of their leaving. A still, soft voice has reminded me of a truth which we mothers are so prone to forget: the entire purpose of the season of this child living under my roof is to give him wings to fly.

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