PERFECT

So. much. work. to do. Saturdays! Arghh! They're over before I've begun to get things done. Why is my list always so long? I even sent the whole family to the dollar movies so I could get some last things done. And yet...

Here I sit, typing. Why? Because my beautiful eighteen year old daughter, who stayed home from the movie, said, "Hey mom, why don't we have a girls' night or something?" "Because I have too much work to do!" I mumble. So she sits down to the piano. Her favorite spot in the house.

I sigh, gotta get going. Gotta get done before they all get home. Laundry, dishes, paperwork, phone calls....And then, she starts to play.

First the litany of favorite musicals. Her voice has never sounded sweeter. I reach for my phone to stealthily record this precious moment in time. I want to freeze and never let go of the love I'm feeling right now. All the sadness of NOT getting that lead, or not getting that date, all the teenage angst and suffering is somehow washing away and I am the only witness. Sadly my phone storage is FULL and I am left gasping, knowing that no one else can share this loveliness with me. How can I share it??? Ah, I can write.

Next, the Jane Austin book. "My Father's Favourite" never ceases to bring tears. She glides her nimble fingers effortlessly across the keys, evoking with every stroke. The whole book tumbles out, page after page of British "senses" and stoic "sensibilities." (I'm the OLDER sister in that movie, can you tell??)

Finally, well loved others, "Somewhere in Time," " Only Hope," Rachmaninoff, Lord of the Rings, .....I close my eyes and drink it in, my personal concert for one.

Suddenly, a knock at the door. Some of her friends heard she was home alone. I guess that will never do on a Saturday night. Drat. Of course it's a lot more fun for her to go hang out with them. Of course it's ok. She closes the door behind her. I sit. I stare. I type. I weep just a little.

Why am I the luckiest mom in the world? Why is God so great and so merciful to insignificant me?

My husband will wonder what I did while they were away. What happened to my "list?" He won't be angry, because he's just so flippin' awesome. He'll just smile at me. And then I'll let him know that I couldn't get things done because I spent the perfect night with my daughter. The one who's about to graduate and move away forever. yeah, that one.

He'll agree, "Perfect."

"For my soul deligtheth in the song of the heart; yea, the song of the righteous is a prayer unto me, and it shall be answered with a blessing upon their heads."

D & C 25: 12