Turn On Your Hearthlight

(Isn't that a bad Neil Diamond song?) The kids played so hard at this indoor play place that they were sweating. My friend and I sat on hard chairs and talked for 4 hours while they kept coming back and eating food and drinking water. Then we came home and swam in the heat of evening when the ground was still sweating from the day.

In the kitchen I had three people I like most, my tall friend with the wicked sense of humor and bendable heart, my gentle younger friend with the buttery tan and my mom, always dressed well and giving out advice no one will take. The kids were gathered outside in the porch tent, their own ante-room eating noodles, and one husband and kid were in the living room discussing (of course) poop and barf. I wandered back into the steamy kitchen and it only had 3 women in it, but it felt full. I was putting stuff away, barely looked at anyone but I felt buoyed by the sound and feel of these people in my kitchen – they float my world. It’s hard to look directly at people when their presence is what holds you up.

Putting the kids to bed I realized I felt that feeling, the house full long after they were gone, they filled a crack in my life, the crack of summer, it can’t already be August. Nine o’clock on an August night after a full day and people in the kitchen also avoiding bedtime, and everyone is so joyful and good looking. The people matter – no house, no stuff, any kitchen anywhere – it’s the people that bring your life heartiness. These families fill my hearth.