A se quu i

After experiencing the return of warmer weather I had forgotten that only weeks before we were still battling the tight clenches of a long and brutal winter.  My body has an aversion to colder weather so it has graciously adapted to the warmth of the sun these last few weeks--and with the distractions of yard work, margaritas and flip flops it has forgotten to look back. 
 
Then came the thunder.  We didn't have our usual April showers this year, which usually carry into early May.  Wicked weather and tornados have been noticeably absent from our Spring schedule.  So when the rain and thunder rolled in yesterday afternoon their march was met with welcome by the warm street pavement of the city and, closer to home, by my freshly planted zinnias, eager to sprout from their pots. 
 
When the afternoon rain had passed it left behind an evening chill.  I hadn't dressed myself or the babies appropriately for the end of the day, and so on our ritual closing of the work and school day, between buildings and car, we froze. 
 
When we arrived home I prepared some warm soup for dinner.  After dinner I realized we were in need of a few grocery and toiletry items. I put Clara down for a nap.  For myself and Lukas I dug out some warmer clothes, now burried beneath patterned shorts and colorful tank tops.  Skylar didn't want to join us so she agreed to stay home and watch the baby while Lukas and I ventured out.
 
As we stepped out of the car into the parking lot of Neighborhood Market there was a light mist that filled the air. Instead of setting Lukas to the ground to walk as I usually do, because I carry Clara, I held him close to me and we giggled as our faces met.  A strong odor of cigarette smoke had drifted toward us and I imagined the source finding comfort in the warm inhalations of nicotine and tar. It felt as if we had traveled in time to another season and if you had told me it was October you could have fooled me. 
 
As I carried Lukas I realized that he and I rarely had alone time anymore.  It seemed so long ago that he had been the baby--that it had been he and I that were inseparable. And once we were inside I also realized a year or more has passed since that front seat of the shopping cart, where he now sat, had been his.  He was usually delegated to the rear.  I could see he was enjoying my complete focus, so as we shopped for the few items we needed we took our time and talked and enjoyed the company.
 
While there was nothing extraordinary about our venture to the grocery store, the weather had created a moment to treasure.  As a single mother I wish I had the opportunity to travel in time more often. I'll admit it--as a mom I am greedy.  I wish I could go back and pick up evenings lost due to work and household duties. I wish I could have an hour or two to spend with each of my children individually every evening.  I spend too much time worried about lost time. But what last night gave me was the realization that while I don't have it in my power to recreate the lost moments, I do have it within me to treasure the moments as they are given to me, however simple they may be. 
 
I am thankful that today I can hold onto these thoughts and hopefully carry them over into another evening.