Dear Lizzie...(13)

Dear Lizzie,
It's been awhile. I keep meaning to write, since I ponder your life at least once a week. It's too hard not to - working in your house like we are. We have peeled back the layers of history. The house has the same bones, but we have done some organ transplants and skin grafts.
It was hot yesterday - 90 degrees. Not too hot by July standards, but hot for April. Upstairs the windows were open and I stood in the west room. To my left the window your toddler plunged from, before me the clipped ceiling and short wall. The stairs, new stairs, were behind me. We have them going up the original way now, however they aren't nearly as steep as what you had to ascend. Light skipped across the floor, and the hot wind swirled around in a dance fueled by all the open windows. I could picture you sending the kids up to open the windows - or perhaps they were just left open at this time of year? I can see small beds with quilts and hear booted feet on the wood. The same birds still sing though there are more trees for them now. Did you roll up your sleeves as you had to cook over the fire? Maybe that wasn't proper.
I stand in a T-shirt and jeans, and my phone is in my pocked. I am recording the changes with it. You could never imagine. My three male children, my boys wanting to be men, but who can't quite figure it out yet - they will be sleeping up here. It has been years since anyone has. I wish I couldn't hear the cars going by every few minutes, then I could imagine it more as you had it.
I wish I could tell you that you would be so proud of me. The truth is, Lizzie, I struggle a lot. Figuring out life, being a mom, and this process of being a child of God, well, it's hard work.
I am thankful for the generations that have lived and struggled here also. I have the privilege of knowing their end results and it gives me hope.
I'll try to keep in better touch, Lizzie. In the mean time, if you need me, I'll probably be sweeping your floors.

Yours Truly,
Charity