Return [Poem]

Quetiapine ohne rezept It is quiet today here in my house.
The children, one-by-one,
kiss me and leave,
the door swinging behind them.

Campo Mourão Like the calm after a hurricane,
there is mess in their wake–
and yet the storm will return,
perhaps with less force later on.

Each person, unique and different
in need and want,
a mother’s job is never quite finished–
nor should it ever be.

The dog, now my only companion,
sits at my feet, attentive to my need,
consoling me as I lament
the far-too-fast growing up of my precious brood.

Summer is over; school has begun. While during the dog days of summer I usually find myself griping about having all four of my kids under foot and getting nothing done, somewhere in the middle of it all, we all get into a groove and enjoy more relaxed days with less placed to go and things to accomplish.

I’m reminded by other women who have gone before me that their time as kids goes quickly; the sudden quietness of everyone gone for school feels awkward and surreal. Someday they will all grow up and leave to live their lives.

Yet, here I am. No more excuses, I must return all the unanswered emails and clean the corners of the house I don’t really care about in the summertime. For now, I can take a moment for myself, and savor the quiet that will soon disappear when everyone returns from school.