Right now the house is quiet.
From my recliner in the living room, I can hear the steady, musical whistle of Stephen's breathing as he sleeps.
From the opposite side of the house, I hear Virgil's deep, even breaths with an occasional snore mixed in.
Even Patch is curled up on the couch snoring.
Only Rainer and I are awake. I am in my recliner. The only sound from me is the clicking of the keyboard as I type.
Rainer is silent, sprawled on the white clothes that were washed earlier, piled on the couch and never folded. I should shoo him off the clothes, but we're content and I don't want to disturb him.
His ears stand up and he cocks his head toward me if I happen to strike a key too loudly.
There has been nothing unusual about the day. Virgil and I worked and Stephen went to school. Stephen walked around town. I prepared supper. There was reading and gaming and TV watching. A typical school night (only no homework due to State testing.)
Yet, sitting here, listening to my family sleep, I am overwhelmed at the wonder of my blessings. I want to savor the moments with my family, however mundane. I want to cherish the happiness, the contentment. I want to recognize my blessings and thank the Giver of those blessings. Life is not static, but whatever happened yesterday, and whatever happens tomorrow, I am thankful for the quiet moments of tonight and the love that lives in our home.