At Last

It is now 10:55 as I start to write. It has been a full day, an active afternoon, an eventful evening and I am tired. Yes, for the first time in a long while I am actually tired. I am ready to sleep the night away, knowing that there are no alarms to go off, no appointments to meet and no pressing matters that need my undivided attention. I am at last, ready for a good night's sleep.

I'll never forget a movie I saw, where a man was thinking back on his mother. He had been a little boy and he knew how hard his little Irish mother worked to cook, clean and take care of their family of all boys. He said the last thing he would hear every night as she laid down in the bed was, "At last." with a heavy sigh. I too, am ready for that.

But, I am watching the clock and waiting for my youngest son to come home. The pastor's wife has him with her and her son and was supposed to have him at home at 10:00. Of course you see the time and I am beginning to worry. I know he is safe with my friend, she is always so good about taking care, but, it's late, it's a Friday night and I am sooo ready for bed. Where are they?

My girls are already in the bed and sleeping. They had a friend spend the night and usually they are up and giggling half the night, but I can hear their heavy breathing coming from the fold out couch as they sleep. Where could they be?

My husband and oldest son are away camping with the scouts this weekend. It should be a good weekend for it. The weather has turned cool and brisk with the heavy air of fall. Why are they so late?

I find myself going to the window every few minutes, every little sound makes me jump and say, "At last...they are home." Only to find it was my over eager imagination, playing tricks on me again. Where is she with my son?

It is now 11:09 and now I am beginning to be upset. Not mad, no, just feeling helpless. The "what if's" start playing thru my head like a train engine out of control. I try to push the tormenting ideas out of the way and reason away the demons that try and haunt me. Where is my son?

I think I will call now and see what is going on. Good Night and God Bless, hopefully when he comes home I can say, "At last".

katcha~ is this how the father of the prodigal son felt, always looking down the road for his beloved son to return?