Dora Hiers is our guest blogger today. Her latest novel Journey’s End
Here’s Dora!
“Bye, sweetie. Be careful driving back.” I plant a kiss on my youngest son’s cheek through the open car window, the smell of freshly washed clothes drifting my way.
He rolls those twenty-year-old eyes. “Mom, you don’t need to remind me. I’m a big boy.”
“Not too big to let your mom do your laundry.” Smiling, I watch him drive away, headed back to his dorm, then race to my desk.
With a quiet house and the scene that had eluded me all week finally fleshed out, my fingers blaze across the keyboard…
“Oh!” Delaney slipped, only a couple of inches, but enough that now her hips dangled over the edge of the building. She clawed the concrete floor with fingers, scraping, grasping, clinging, unable to gain a grip.
She panted, short frantic breaths, not willing to risk sucking in a huge gulp. Afraid that much oxygen would disturb what delicate balance she had left.
“Hang on, sweetheart.” Sage’s frantic tone carried from way across the room. A world away.
Teeth clenched in a pallid face, Sage’s arm snaked out and his leg extended, but his movements appeared stiff, surreal, like a movie playing out in slow motion. Determination steeled his jaw. Blood soaked his shirt.
Their eyes connected. For a second. Long enough for her to convey what was on her heart. Long enough for him to see clear through to her soul. I love you, Sage.
She couldn’t hold on much longer. The wind tugged at her legs, and she couldn’t grab onto anything. Delaney closed her eyes and braced—
The ringing of a cell phone rips me from the scene. My fingers still as I stare at my oldest son’s smiling face.
Not now, John.
But I knew better. If I didn’t answer my cell, the house phone would ring next. I glance at the time. Four o’clock. “Hey, John.”
“Hi Mom. Are you busy?”
“Yes.”
“Doing what?”
I shake my head. Does he think a book writes itself? “Writing.”
“Can you pick up Mason from daycare? I’m working overtime.”
Overtime? What about me? I need to answer blog interviews, design blog posts, answer readers, catch up on social networking. And I wanted to finish this scene while it was still fresh in my head.
I glance at my grandson’s picture. A smile tugs at my lips.
“That everyone may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all his toil—this is the gift of God.” (Eccl 3:13 NIV)
And what a gift!
A job that I enjoy and the flexibility to make time for my family when they need me. How could I complain?
Work or play? Today that’s a no-brainer.
Are your scales tipped in the right direction?
Good morning, Preslaysa. Thanks so much for inviting me to hang out with you. I always enjoy visiting your blog!
Oh, Dora, what a great post. And here’s the thing you nailed to perfection: your babies are always your babies. Sure our kids grow up, but they never grow away from our hearts, nor our concern! 🙂 God bless, and continued success!!!
What a lovely post, Dora, and oh, so true.
I had to train myself (sounds terrible, but it’s true) to pull out of my writing when someone calls on me. But then I remember how precious friends and family are, especially how quickly my child will be grown and gone. They’re gifts from God. Let us treat them with the care they deserve.
God bless!
Thanks, Marianne! You’re so right. With the grandkids, you just keep adding to the joy! Congrats on your recent release of HEARTS COMMUNION!
Thanks, Donna! Yep. I’m guilty, too! Do you get so focused on writing that you barely hear the phone ring? And you’re right, Donna. Children, grandchildren, family – they’re all gifts from God, entrusted to us for such a short time. And that time is not guaranteed!