It is strangely, eerily quiet here at #6.
All of our grandchildren
have gone home.
They come marching in,
full of life
and packed with energy.
They know that this home has a place for them.
A bed,
a room full of books and toys.
They know where the snacks are and the gum
and my candy stash.
They fill this place with
light,
and noise,
love, hugs and kisses,
joy,
laughter, and every now and then
tears.
They love grammy's big tub
that I fill with bubbles and water
up almost to the top.
They know where the ice cream is,
and the cherries,
and the chocolate shell.
We sit on the back porch every night
and eat sundaes together.
We chat about everything,
we laugh hysterically.
We watch movies,
we see deer.
They are all home now,
back with their mom and dad.
But every so often this place becomes magical
with the minds of children.
Yes,
our nest has emptied again....
exactly as it should.
Until next time the back door opens
and they run it to get a big hug hello from
their grammy and granddaddy.
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