In our temporary status of virtual empty nesters (my son after all, has become quite the man about town with his posse of friends), it seemed the perfect opportunity to invite Krista, her husband and daughters to our local beach club for dinner. During the afternoon, I was a little displaced to be in such a quiet house. No doors slamming, sudden emergencies or issues to mend. I prepared our dinner in an odd solitude and when my husband appeared after work, everything was packed and ready to go. Our guests enjoyed their first visit to this bucolic spot as their daughters splashed in the river, played in the sand and ate numerous cherries with great delight. I can absolutely wait to become a grandmother (listen up, teen aged children of mine) but watching Krista with her cherry stained girls as they clambered all over her made me remember the deliciousness of small children and the wonderful, messy intimacy that their companionship brings.
And our daughters arrived home late from their road trip, tanned, worn out and full of smiles. Happiness is hearing a car pull in to the driveway at 2 a.m.
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