The Tide Is Turning

Ten minutes ago, the Boys got home from college. A tide of packing boxes and printers and trash bags stuffed with clothes washed into the House on the Corner of Drainage Street and Halfway Down the Hill.

Nine minutes ago, the house felt way too small. I grimaced as I picked up shoes and stirred from sleep as late-nighters "tip-toed" up the back stairs.

Eight minutes ago I wondered if the furniture would survive the summer, what with the flopping down and the wrestling and the sheer physicality of youth.

Seven minutes ago I spent almost $300 at the grocery store and less than 24 hours heard a Boy say, "Isn't there anything to eat around here?"

Six minutes ago I made a list of things I was going to accomplish while I commanded the muscles of all these manly men to tote and carry--I'd finish the rock patio! We'd spiffy up the basement entry! 

Five minutes ago I tore up the manly to-do list and made a gazillion cupcakes instead.

Four minutes ago I wiped away a tear that escaped when my family once again filled an entire pew at church.

Three minutes ago I remembered I STILL hadn't upholstered the rocker Boy#3 wants for his new apartment, and that time was growing short to get everything done.

Two minutes ago the tide of packing boxes showed up in the living room again, this time on their way to three different states. I tried to count how many times we've watched this here-they-come-and-there-they-go progression, and reminded myself of Boy#1's reaction when I asked him if he felt like he'd arrived home when he got back to Washington: "No," he said, "D.C. is someplace familiar that I love, but home is home."

One minute ago I realized how quickly time moves and that summer is over. I'm going to be missing the Boys again now that we're nearing low tide. I'm just glad home is home, and that in a few minutes the tide will come in again.