This is not something I do very often, this writing with abandon for five guided minutes. I usually work off of my own inspiration only and a prompt is not an easy thing for me. But today, I felt bold! I need the practice, and what better way to get it than among community.
I know he does it for us.
Sometimes he comes home so late that I’m already asleep, no matter how hard I tried to stay up, and he sneaks around the bedroom as if he’s not welcome there, doesn’t belong there. I wish my tired eyes could have made it.
If I was able, I would have so many thank yous to say, so many kisses to give, so many sighs to relieve him of, and knots to rub out of his back. He is our hero on white horse, putting out fires all day so he can finish with the warm kindling of home. He bears the weight of a million details and burdens, and he does it gladly, without complaining.
His is the tiredness of work well done, of love well-expressed.
And of all things, he would say that I have the harder job. That being home caring for children, running the home, teaching and learning, cooking and sometimes cleaning, is the truly important job.
But I see. I see all the love that makes his work truly something important and life-giving.
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