This morning we cleaned, my son and I. We cleaned out his room and had much to enjoy!
Who knew it would be so much fun?
We laughed when we saw the dried-up tube of paint, its cap left slightly askew.
I jumped when a plastic spider was found in a corner and sent my way before I knew.
Loads of items discarded to save all but a few, crumbled papers, wrappers, and other
used before now, placed in the trash bin to live on the floor no more.
Memories kept, those that meant something more.
A fun look back on artwork from years before.
But, it was the books that got me – those stories told cuddled in bed
with each of my three sons’ heads
peering at the pictures long before they read,
moved way to novels long before I was banished from
stories in bed.
I cannot dispose of these books,
I’ll store them away.
For someday, I hope, I’ll read them as I sway
in a rocker made with love by their dad and grandpa,
another thing that must stay.
In our family, there’s books and furniture and such,
our love encased by these solid things, but never as
much as those memories made.
So fun, with our son, his room cleaned out on a Sweet Saturday Morn.