Sunday

In this rare quiet moment I'm relaxed and at peace. Last evening, or I should write, early this morning, she stepped into the family room with her arms filled with picture frames. She had a shy smile on her face, then, "Is it okay with you if I put the grand children's pictures back on display?"

Time indeed heals all wounds. Back then, the very sight of the photographs dropped her to the floor in pain, and tears of grief. Several days later I arrived home to find all the pictures, those little frozen moments framed in gold and wood, gone. She'd bundled and hidden them out of sight. I never said a word or complained. Our house was empty of memories.

This morning I awoke and when I stepped into our living room the piano top was lined with pictures of Little Bit and Sport Model. The family room bookcases held their smiling faces. It's been far too long.

Her heart mends, and I owe and credit this change to a little six year old girl.

This, is a good thing.

We have a busy day scheduled. Sweet Wife has tapped me to prepare a dinner for guests. She recently met and made a new best friend. Her new best friend is from Trinidad, a registered nurse and grandmother and member of Sweet Wife's church. Her new friend has custody of her six year old granddaughter, a pixie of pure delight. The pixies name is Ariana. Ariana has hair like spun silk that falls in ringlets and a thousand watt smile. I must be careful of my heart.

My job is to cook. They arrive at 1600, and it's been made clear I had better be on my best behavior and to please secure our home of all lose firearms. I shall comply. If this minor chore will further her hearts healing - I'm all in.

Later,

Stephen