My youngest daughter sent a text to the family.
She joyfully announced that she had taken her last college exam.
In a little over a week, she will be graduated.
In a little over a week, a new chapter begins.

Not just a new chapter for my daughter but for my husband as well.
He has put five children through college.
This is his last child to receive an undergraduate degree.
Each of them are so grateful to their dad for providing for them and making this possible.

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We have all said or heard the words.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care.
However, it was not stockings that were hung on the mantel.
This time, it was something much different.

This time, small clothespins held Onesies, hats, socks, and baby mittens.
This time we were all gathered to celebrate the upcoming birth of a baby.
Forty women came to our home for a baby shower.
It was a day to rejoice in anticipation.

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She was in front of me.
I could see that she had a large stroller.
It almost looked like a running stroller but I knew it was not.
I could see two little girls sitting in the front.

The mother had placed all of her items on the belt as it moved forward.
She was buying cute decorations for St. Patrick’s Day and Easter.
She was buying things that little girls would love.
There was another little girl standing next to the stroller.

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The text came through early in the morning.
It was sent on the family thread.
It was part of the ongoing conversation we use most days to stay connected.
Funny things, serious things, and accomplishments all find their way on the thread.

This text was very special.
This text consisted of two pictures.
The pictures were gray, grainy, and yet so incredibly beautiful.
It was the subject of the picture that took my breath away.

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I was down in the finished part of our basement.
I was putting something away.
I saw it tucked next to the sofa.
It was the cradle my husband made for one of our daughters.

My husband is an amazing woodworker.
Woodworking is a hobby that he loves.
He made our large farm table in the kitchen.
He made our armoire in the family room as an anniversary present many years ago.

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I heard them talking.
We were all in the public bathroom at the store with the bulls eye on the front.
I knew that the young mother was hoping to use the large handicap stall, but it was occupied.
Those larger stalls are such a blessing to mothers with small children.

I could hear the mother and her young child talking as I was at the sink.
I climb under there, Mommy!
No, don’t climb under there! The mother said with exasperation.
Why?

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The date was set.
I knew that two of my daughters were planning to participate.
I learned that my son-in-love was also joining in that morning.
I decided to register as well.

I registered for a 5K Walk/Run to support our local crisis pregnancy center.
A walk had been done a previous year in another location.
However, this year it was expanded to be a run as well.
It was moved to a more central location.

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I remember the night like it was yesterday.
We had four of our five children at the time.
It was the days of early baths and bedtimes.
It was the days of leisurely time alone with my husband.

Time alone to read or watch a movie together.
Time alone to have a cup of tea.
I remember the night we heard little footsteps in the kitchen.
Our second child, a daughter, was standing next to me as I sat on the sofa with my feet up.

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A Hobby Lobby store opened nearby.
It is a store where I can always find something unique.
It is another store to add to my list of favorites.
I was just there with my youngest daughter before she went back to college.

A few days later I was back again, by myself this time.
When I was with my daughter, I simply browsed.
I stopped at the section where all the wooden signs are found.
There was one sign that caught my eye.

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I remember hearing a story once that made me laugh.
A husband came home to find the house in disarray.
Toys were all over the yard and the driveway.
Toys were strewn all over the floor inside the house as well.

His children were still in their pajamas.
Goldfish crackers and Cheerios were sprinkled everywhere the toddler had walked.
Half filled cups of milk and juice were sitting in what looked to be permanent rings on the table.
The kitchen appeared to be a war zone with evidence that the children made their own lunch.

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