These Are the Days...

I was just beginning to get steaks ready to marinate for my Valentine Dinner with the two most important people in the world, my daughter and my son, when the back door opened far earlier than I anticipated.

I looked back, and as the boy walked through the door, I asked, "The parade over already? You're kidding me."

He looked up a little sheepishly. "Nope. It's done." He went on, "Someone's here that wants to see you."

Now, people, let me tell you that I had a hard time coming up with the thought of anyone I could POSSIBLY want to see this afternoon, but, like a mother does, I said hesitantly, "Ok. Tell 'em to come in."

And, he walked through the door...

A little taller than the last time I saw him, but that infectious grin on his face lit my world!

"Jack! What are you doing?"

His grin grew even bigger, "I came to see my Miss Pam."

I hugged that boy tight. He was truly a beautiful sight.

In that time that I hugged him, I remembered him...

And all the nights he, and 10 more of their closest friends, spent on my living room floor, in my den floor, in the boy's bedroom floor...where ever they could find a place to land for the night...

All those years ago.

I remembered golf carts and golf lessons and fireworks and Sheriff's departments...

And, laughter...

More than anything...

I remembered their laughter.

I couldn't keep food in the house.

There were never less than five 13 and 14 year-old boys in my house at any given time.

They thought my fried chicken was the best they had ever had, and begged me to open a restaurant, because we could "be rich" if we did.

They would show up at the door at seven in the morning or ten at night, knowing it would always be open to them.

And, it always was.

All those boys, each of them, lived together; went to church together; went to school together; laughed together...

They were the biggest motley crew you'd ever seen...

Sweet Jack the youngest of the bunch...

Braces on his teeth, and a smile that could light the world.

Ask any of those boy the laws about shooting fireworks in THIS parish, and they can quote it to you...

Because, you see, it was MY house the deputy brought them all to when they found them lighting firecrackers and tossing them off their golf carts...

"Fireworks can be shot no less than 250 feet of a business or residence in Rapides Parish."

(I made them recite that to me over and over and over again that day before I'd let them go home, and I do believe THAT was one time they all wanted to go home!)

Oh, all those boys...

They made me crazy when they all stormed me.

Cooking, cleaning and keeping up with them was a JOB...

But, I loved every second of it.

Not so much then as I do today...

I'd LOVE to have those boys back in my floors today...

I'd LOVE to hear their laughter...

Just one more time.

Those are the days I remember.