In one room...

Lives are shared. You begin to see...
the struggles,
the messiness that is life,
the hurts,
the celebrations,
the desires long forgotten.
You can feel the tension
and the release of finally sharing.


Stories are told. You begin to see...
your father's fingers stained from the Mulberry tree on Sunday afternoons,
your grandfather's little boy legs around the horse on his early morning ride to school,
your grandmother's strong young arms holding babies close,
history come to life.


Memories are stored up. You notice...
those hands work-worn like your father's,
the color of that cheek bright once more,
the slant of their noses just so,
the note a chuckle takes.


Four generations,
family,
in one room.
A gift.