through the fire and the flame

I'm listening to it right now. I should be in bed, it's 10:35PM, one hour past my bedtime, and I'm tired. But Kari and Brian are here, and they have to leave early tomorrow morning, about the same time Bill and I leave for Sunday School. I'm filled to the brim today - we went to the Kiwanis Pancake Feed, and watched them break the Guinness World Record for the most pancakes served (30,724). They served us four pancakes, two sausages, orange juice (or milk), and all the seconds (and thirds and fourths) we wanted. It was a party, for sure - tv cameras everywhere - MSU Dragons dressed up to volunteer, crooning behind Elizabeth playing live piano music. I ate two pancakes and three sausages, no juice. Then I made egg rolls and fried rice and sweet and sour sauce for dinner, and we quoted "Waiting for Guffman" all during dinner, laughing at our cleverness. I made a Take 2 Video run and rented it, and we watched it, crowded around my Apple because the monitor is so big. That movie only gets better with time - "CORKY." Ah - soothes my heart. I tucked Bill in bed and headed back to Kari's room, where we sit now. I don't want to go to bed. When I wake up tomorrow, she'll be gone.

These times are so precious. She's gone, you know, even though she's HERE right now - I realize she will never LIVE here again in the house - she's grown up, and it felt like a punch to my stomach the first time I realized it. I'm a little used to it, but it's still just so natural for her to be here - it feels like HOME when she's here... then she drives away in her little white Bravada, honking as she rounds the corner, and I stand in the door, watching until I can't see her anymore. But that's sort of what all of life is like - precious little diamonds of coming together, followed by stretches of different combinations - sometimes alone, sometimes with Bill, then Bill and Steve, then Steve alone, then Erik, then my friends, then I'm alone again. It's all right - it's perfect - it's the colors and textures of the tapestry - ever-changing and interesting. But sometimes, just sometimes, I wish I could just hold it ALL in my arms and squeeze and keep everybody here with me always. Not possible, I know, improbable, impossible, but still, I think that sometimes, and if I close my eyes and concentrate hard enough, I can FEEL everyone here with me, and that's just perfect.