It's time. I must let Ramseyes go back to his own little beddie bye, his own sweet Mom and Dad. No more kissing chubby cheeks and nuzzling "fresh from the tub" baby sweetness. No more giggling and laughing and chattering. No more reading books to wide eyed quietness. No more sticky hugs and sharing snacks.
We debate about the best way to transport the little man and agree that traveling at night is easier for a not-quite-two-year-old. So Kiel packs the car and gears up for staying awake late into the night while Ramseyes works out the wiggles and kinks by running around, chasing Sugarbear, and making a final mess, scattering cereal about and tossing toys.
Drew packs and plans to spend some time with Dad, his return train ticket carefully tucked in his wallet. Kiel will pick up a newer car from his connection out there as well. Three men in a car. Generational family strength. Fleeing at midnight to worlds unknown, adventures awaiting, excitement calling.
And I, I sit alone in the quietness after they leave and pray. Keep them safe, Lord. Lead them through the darkness and for all their lives. I am content to stay home and let go. They will do just fine.
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