When Daddy's Away

Shaun was away on a business trip last night, and I was here at our house, overnight, for the first time by myself. He has only been away one other time since we lived here, and I managed to work in a trip to Dad and Mom's. I realize that this makes me sound quite skittish. So be it. I lived alone for a couple of years while in college, and I only recall feeling frightened once or twice. Now, after living with a man in my house for over eight years, I sense my vulnerability more when he is away. The feeling intensifies one hundred fold with each child as I also am aware of my limited ability to defend or protect them on my own. We own a gun, but I could do more damage with a meat mallet. For that reason, I decided to keep the kids with me in my room last night. Well, that and the fact that I wanted other breathing bodies in the room with me. As I lay down in bed last night, after triple-checking doors and windows, I could hear Brady making his little baby sleep noises down in his pack 'n play and could see Seth within arm's reach below me on his little pallet on the floor. I felt a lot of peace having them there with me, behind a locked door, and in a room where I could easily carry them both out of a window without much trouble. I also recognized the deep comfort of life coming full circle. As I lay there falling asleep, I could easily drift off to times in my own childhood when my dad was gone at the Navy's bidding. I can recall bits and pieces from nights when Mom kept us close to her in the same way. I slept in the bed near to her, and my brother occupied a pallet on the floor, close enough for her to hear us breathing. I never felt afraid during those times, which is probably why I don't remember many of them, though I am sure there must have been extended periods of time when Dad was away. My parents' bedroom was a haven. As early as the age of three, I can recall an image of jumping up and down on my parents' bed, brimming with excitement. As an older child, I remember watching "Little House on the Prairie" and "Bonanza" with Mom on her bed on summer days when it was just too hot to venture out. As a teenager, my brother and I would pile onto Mom's bed each night for a story from a devotional book entitled A View from the Zoo. Those were times spent with Mom that shaped me into who I am today. One of my most cherished memories from my college years is the night I stayed up until 3 AM, in the dark, talking to Mom on her bed about my friend, Shaun, and the crush I had on him. We were both so sleepy, but I can recall, even then, realizing the weight of that conversation and that night as we plotted out how I should break off an engagement and pursue what seemed to be the Lord's leading. Of all things, I can remember giggling with my mom there in the dark. I could never have known then that on a random Tuesday night ten years later, I would fall asleep to the sounds of Shaun's two sons breathing in sweet life on each side of me.