That Day Mom Wasn't Home

I went to visit one of my best friends last week. She lives in Chicago, but was here in North Carolina visiting her family just a couple of hours away, so Holly and I drove over to visit her.

Jason asked me, "Babe, that's a lot of driving for one day. You sure you're up for it?"

Alas - the idea of hours in the car alone does not appeal to him, but LORD HAVE MERCY those hours felt like minutes to me because - silence. Sweet, sweet silence. And, more glorious silence.

Somewhere around midday, I got a text from him - wondering about dinner.

Which sent me, my friend, and her Momma all into a fit of laughter.

I never wonder how my kids will fare when they're with my husband for an extended period of time. Hours, a day, even overnight so my friends and I can go shopping. He's not sweating the small stuff, and he's not sweating the big stuff. I never have to leave instructions or detailed lists - and I'm always able to just...leave.

Because I know he's got it. I know he's not stressing or anxious or worried. I know he'll be present, in the moment with them, and he will do most things differently than I would, but just as well. Maybe better.

I stood with my camera - looking at him sitting there with all of them on Father's Day this year.

My Jason - this boy I fell in love with in college that has become, before my very eyes, a loyal, faithful, and trusted father to our children.

I hope they remember the big things: How much He loved being their Dad when they were little. How he pointed them to Jesus, taught them to serve and love one another, and how he read to them every night. I hope they remember how much he loved their Mother.

And, I hope they remember how much he loved making their days special - a million little things over the course of their childhood.

Like serving up cinnamon rolls and pie for dinner.

That day Mom wasn't home.