I hear him in the other room. He's playing x-box and talking with his brother, whom I can't hear. The headphones and technology of the internet are awesome, amazing, and I will ever be grateful for them.
I hear him in the other room talking, laughing, insulting, carrying on. The sound is music and makes me smile.
I hear him in the other room, as the rest of the house is quietly resting. I hear the planes over head, the wind chimes out back, the wind through the trees and pushing on the house.
I hear him in the other room, and I know the time is short. Just like the first time, I know this is supposed to happen at this time.
I was made for such a time, and such a time was made to break me. These changes come, as they are supposed to, like clock work. Life continues on. Boys grow up and become men.
I hear him in the other room and look forward to the day in a few months when my house shall be full, and I will hear all the voices, all the laughter, all the insults, all the talking, and I will feel all the feelings.
And I wonder if there is a way to bottle it, so that I can take it out and hold it again.
I will always be grateful for the choices we made as a family.
I will always be thankful for the relationships which have come out of this nucleus.
I will always know that we did the best we could, and I am ever so grateful for the memories which will always call them home.
I hear him in the other room.
I am grateful.