her cup overflows. but her arms are too full to wipe the mess clean,
too full to see the blessings in the dark mess that flow out of the overturned mug.
as she shuffles two small boys away from danger, the burning liquid pools on the counter, and eventually, drips cold and stale to the floor.
in around two handfuls of days, a set of wings will take three excited travellers
on a journey across the pond and will gently land in the crooked letter state, or maybe beside the peach trees, or possibly near sweet caroline.
from there, four wheels or another set of wings will carry the three tired travellers to sweet home.
two boys will fill the arms of parents of grand nature. a village extending a hand. a momma greatly humbled. the same weary momma, now with empty arms, will journey back to her working husband and the home they’ve built together.
for a handful of weeks,
a guilt stricken momma will try to focus on the plan, sipping from a cup that holds its contents but stings her lips with bitter heat. the plan is to empty the overflowing boxes of stuff that are stuffed in the room that holds things. the plan is to fill the cabinets and the closets with a home for every stuff, and every stuff in that home. the plan is to write down the knowledge of what comes next…when to shop, when to rest, when to empty her arms and clean up a mess. she’ll fill the blocks of days with a consistent amount of work and play, so she’s always prepared and mostly refreshed. the lost momma will try to find her way through the small handful of hours, and days, a few weeks without her little ones to guide her way.
as time trudges along, the guilt will wash away as two small boys build memories of adventures with the parents of grand nature, as the weariness subsides, and the light begins to shine through. the air will turn crisp as she breathes in deeper than before. with the arms of her village stretched out across the pond, she find the strength to fill her arms again…
she will make the journey back to sweet home, scoop her two small boys up, and together they’ll fly back to the home that she created with her husband across the pond.
and the rested momma will gently lay a folded cloth on the counter… this time she wants to soak up every last drop of blessings and savor every precious sip that doesn’t overflow onto the cloth…
This post linked to Tuesdays Unwrapped.