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The last of the visiting children and grandchildren went home today. This was such a rare, unexpected treat, having them all in town at one time. Now I’ve begun rolling up the extra quilts and packing away the cots. I’ve sorted the various items left behind and started cleaning the floors littered by twenty-five sets of footprints.  I’m tempted not to clean the spot where they ran in and out the back door all day on Saturday. The mud is a nice reminder of the action.

But, the sound of their voices and the feel of their hugs will linger beyond the mess in the house, of course. So, I shall mop the floor. And I’ll enjoy the sound of silence tonight when I get home from work. I’ll love my uncluttered counters and my treadmill back in the spare room. I’ll revel in a long sleep with no worries about little ones who might need me in the night. And I’ll wake up excited to get their emails and hear about the wonders of their lives in distant cities and far-flung states.

More than anything else, though, I will settle into my chair tonight with a happy sigh and reach out to hold the hand of their grandfather. We’ll smile and say how good it was to see everyone. We’ll remind one another of the cute things the little ones said and of how amazing the pre-teens are. We will say how proud we are of each one of them, unashamed to admit to one another that we think we’ve grown the greatest crop in the world.

And then we will admit how happy we are to be back in our favorite place again. Just the two of us. Together, forever. And liking our life together so much that it is almost easy to let the children go.

Almost.