The cool thing about being a part of Listen to Your Mother was the instant addition of 13 new sisters. That’s truly how I began to see these women that I was lucky enough to share that stage with; each unique in her own way, each with a special talent or a distinctive way of doing or saying something that might put me at ease, might make me think or might remind me that I’m an important part of the family.
They all made me laugh. Maybe not during the reading of her piece, but in our online discussions or at our read throughs or at the meals we shared. My new sister from another mister Leslie Kohlmeyer always makes me laugh, but the thing with Leslie is that she also makes me think. She’s crazy smart, wise beyond her years and one of the most passionate women I’ve ever met. She freakin’ rocks.
She closed out our Kansas City show with a piece that made me laugh that night, but touches my heart in a new way today. We’re home, my three babies and I, for one day. Today is sandwiched between (almost) a week of being away on work/vacation and a trip to Hays to get Adam back to school.
Tonight is the last night I’ll have these three pieces of my heart under the same roof until Thanksgiving break. It’s the last night, until then, that Adam will come up and plant a peck on the top of my head before he goes to bed. It’s the last night that they will argue over who sits where in the living room, and the last night of them piling on top of each other and rolling around on the floor.
Last year when I moved Adam into the dorm, I balled all day. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, driving away from that campus knowing that I’d left my guy there to fend for himself. I’ll probably cry again Wednesday morning as I drive away for the second time. Not because I’m worried about him anymore, but because I know just how very much I’ll miss him.
So as my three bickered today, I listened through a smile. I thought of Leslie and heard her voice reminding me that these are some of the groundhog days of my life. Later this week I’ll miss those voices all tangled together in a flurry of giggles. Later this week the empty spot at the dinner table will hurt just a little bit. Later this week I’ll see a mom with tiny ones at the store, and I’ll ache for the feel of a tiny hand nestled in mine.
But tonight, because of Leslie, I remembered that this time is fleeting. Tonight I am thankful for Leslie and her wise words. I hope you’ll watch, too, and remember that the groundhog days don’t last forever.