Proof of Life
The heaps of dried out play doh haphazardly stacked atop one another—proof of the three year old’s creative expression.
The bits of dried bark littered by the hearth—proof of a roaring fire, stoked by the father all day, to keep them warm.
The comically large piece of cardboard dutifully protecting the unfinished puzzle underneath—proof of the mother’s attempt to curtail the family’s screen time.
The sequins dusting the hard wood floors—proof of Queen Elsa gracing the home with her presence.
The passport photo tossed onto the counter—proof of adventures to come.
The New Year’s cards swept into a pile—proof of friends both near and far.
The overflowing laundry baskets—proof of reasons to get dressed each day.
The dishes in the sink—proof of nourishment, served up three times a day.
The unmade bed—proof of a restful, warm night’s sleep.
The books covering table tops, couch cushions, and bedroom rugs—proof of the mother and daughter’s shared love of reading.
Though the mother longs for the picture-perfect model home of her dreams, devoid of clutter and chaos, she appreciates how the disorder tells the story of her family. How it is alive with their hopes, dreams, passions, and responsibilities. When she’s tempted to curse the mess around her, and she is very tempted, she instead gives thanks for the proof of life inside these four walls. This is the life she’s always dreamed of, after all.
This post is part of a blog hop with Exhale—an online community of women pursuing creativity alongside motherhood, led by the writing team behind Coffee + Crumbs. Click here to view the next post in the series "Alive."
Love this!
Love this, Kelsey!