Sunday, February 6, 2011

My Unsung Hero

Yesterday was one of those days that has become saddly familiar over the past few years. A Saturday. The house was quiet. Empty. Nearly still. Execept for the sounds of Daisy gnawing her bone at my feet and the clatter of my hands at the keyboard correcting typos and clarifying sentences.

But there was, periodically, a "ding" as something landed in my email box. A "ding" that made me smile because I knew that when I reached the end of the paragraph and toggled my Inbox button, I would find something like this:

 And this:

 And this:

Many Saturdays my husband takes the girls out to do something fun: go to the beach, go to the zoo, go ice skating, or yeseterday, go to the Mall of America. It buys me a few precious hours of quiet time alone with my writing, the most efficient work time in my week. But my husband knows that progress comes with a price: I miss out on things like the first time Mercy swam underwater with her eyes open; Hope fully enjoying herself on the playground where it is okay for her "engine" to run on high; their first rollercoaster ride at MoA.

So he sends me pictures from his phone. Every single one of them buoys me up, the same way all of us girls are thrilled when he's away on business and he emails a photo of the amazing bustle of Times Square where he happens to be standing at that very moment, or the sweep of the Golden Gate Bridge as his taxi passes over it.

Every one of my Saturday email photos points to the same golden thing: soon I will be done. Soon I will be there, with them, taking snapshots for my heart with my own eyes.

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