Heaven

Things haven't been easy around here lately. In fact, I can't think of a more difficult year of my life. The details are long and complicated and frustrating and sad, and I swear if I didn't live the last year myself, I'd think it was a plot of a Lifetime movie.

Most days I've done really well holding it together, and holding everyone else together too. But about one in ten days, I just break. Crumble, really. Today was one of those days. I desperately wanted to be swallowed up in a warm bed and stay there for days, even weeks. I cried thinking about how wonderful it would feel to walk in the door of my parents' house and know there were at least 6 adults at the boys' fingertips to love them and meet all of their needs, so I could focus on my own needs and recuperate. Just the feeling of going "home" sounded so lovely. It was warm, and welcome, and there were people actively seeking me to help shoulder our burdens.

I was in desperate need of an umbrella from the storm. Just a little shelter. Just for a little bit, to catch my breath.

I tried to stay engaged with the kids all day. It wasn't going horribly, but that was mostly because it was just Duke at home and he's thrilled to do just about anything. But I was worried about when Will would get home from school. What would I do the rest of the day with both of them, when I had less than zero desire to do anything?

It was dark at 5:15, but I knew we needed to go outside or they would go crazy inside before bedtime. Will screamed that he wanted to play baseball. In the dark? Whatever. I turned on the dim porch light. It was chilly out and with our coats on we could see our breath. Will handed me the glove and the ball and he headed up to bat. I threw a pitch and smack, it flew threw the air and Will cheered himself on as he rounded the bases.

I was surprised at how much I could actually see with the dim porch light. Duke grabbed Cortney's glove and put it on. It was stiff and creased from laying on the ground through the recent storms. It was so creased, Duke could hover his glove over the ball on the ground and easily pick it up. With each smack of the ball, Duke ran after it saying, "I get it, I get it." He would bring the ball back to me and I'd throw it again.

Occasionally, Duke would get a turn at bat and even though he never hit the ball, Will would always say, "Good Job Duke!" Will would play catcher and squat down holding his glove out, just like a pro. They were showing their true colors as blood brothers, completely supporting and encouraging each other. I got a few turns to bat and I was cheered on by both boys as I ran the bases, cold breath floating through the dark air, landing on home plate.

And then it hit me.

This is heaven.

I used to think heaven was a sanctuary, and it still is by some definitions. But I learned tonight that heaven is living with the people you love, wherever that is. Heaven isn't perfect; it's not paved with gold, or has streets lined with mansions. It's like you're favorite book; dog-eared pages, scribbles in the corners, and creased bindings, but still has plenty of wear left for hundreds of nights reading your most beloved story.

If I have to endure 100 more years like this, to be able to have them be dotted with moments like tonight, then I want to stay here.

In this heaven. With these boys.