That is Life

Last night, riding home, we watched the clouds pass across the moon, revealing and retreating. Gandy, the boys, and me—tracking, commenting, announcing our sightings when the moon revealed itself. Sighing when it hid its light. A normal night turned magical.

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The youngest called me over to the futon: “Gogi, I’m going to give you a quiz.” He held the Minecraft Lego box aloft and pointed. “What is this?” I got right the diamond pickaxe, the skeleton head, the warning sign. I failed the sugarcane (who knew?), the cactus (my favorite), and dang if I could remember that the dude wearing safety goggles was the blacksmith. The boy was gracious about my score.

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The oldest said, “Can I tell you something?” Then he spilled it. Facts, facts, facts. I offered my own factoids, of which I am God’s greatest fan. He and I, we are a matched pair.

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They tested my memory of Beetlejuice, which I saw thirty ? years ago. They, whose mama is Roll Tide all the way, wondered if the movie’s football players in red jerseys might be Alabama players. They were totally confused by the model train town. We did not sing Day-O.

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They held my hand crossing the street. They still wanted me to read them to sleep. They asked for comforting in the storm. They are so grown up and thankfully not yet. But one day they will be. That is life.

The futon we brilliantly flipped into a bed for the youngest

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