Pleiades Bee

My husband loves Reddit. This morning, he told me about a thread and he said it was one of the saddest things he’s ever read.

The question was,”What is your favourite ‘technically correct’ fact?”

Someone responded: “At some point in your childhood, your parents put you down and never picked you up again.”

We had lots to do today—our weekend to-do list, thanks to a leaky basement, is fuller than usual.

And yet today, in particular, I noted how much we held our children.

We played airplane.

Snuggled, all four of us in bed (Sophie was down the street at a friend’s house).

The boys fell asleep on my lap (a rarity) while Andy grilled chicken for dinner.

Boredom. “Sit on my lap,” I said.

A stubbed toe. “Do you want to cuddle?” I asked.

“I’m tired,” said a small voice. “Here,” I said. “I’ll carry you.”

After dinner, before Sophie left with (another) friend down the street, I saw Andy swoop her up. She laughed. I smiled. And I know we both wondered, Is this the last? No, we both thought, silently.

But when?

“Our sweetest songs are those of saddest thought.” —Percy Bysshe Shelley