October 1, 2011
The stranger is comfortable in her body, wakes up easily and rested at 5:55 am daily. She reflects, she packs lunches and makes breakfast. She sits with her daughter to talk at the table before kissing her out the door. Then she serves the child, she delivers it to her room. All requests from this child to stay home have stopped. She knows they won’t work. That child eats breakfast (every day-yay) and gets ready. The rhythm of the day continues, seamlessly, gracefully. The dishes are done, the washing is on the line, the floor is vacuumed. Dinner is consistently served at 5:30. It is from scratch and mostly organic and local. (even the mac and cheese)
A gentle, stable heartbeat is forming in this house hold and this stranger manages every beat.
And I am surprised.
That stranger is me.
It only took 16 years to find her…