There is a place

Around the side of our garage, right between our property line and our neighbor's yard, is a leafy green tree-filled area the kids have claimed. It's "secret" there. They refer to it as the deep, deep forest. You will recall how important it is to have a secret area. The kids run back to it every time they step out our sliding glass doors. It's their own hideaway.

There's nothing to this space really. Just a small landing where Mike has cut down branches and they can stand and sit and think up imaginary scenarios.

It's a fort. It's a kitchen. It's a foreign land. It's the spot they are trying to build a rocket ship our of tree branches and tin foil.

It's kinda everything.

It fills my heart with love to hear them running and laughing and screaming and scheming. Even their arguing feels comforting to me because I know they are lost in their thoughts and plans. This is the very best part of childhood. Sweaty, dirty, imaginative summer playing.

And as I sit here on the back porch and listen and watch them run back and forth from the yard to their secret place, I realize that I am already homesick for this time in our lives. I don't want a single thing to change.

This bond they share and the imaginary world they create with one another is beautiful. It might be the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Because they are so complete. This is the sum total of their lives. They don't know about the world out there and how it can pull them so far from each other and from us. This is their world and it is just right.

As they grow older there will be friends and social scenes and worries and fears. But now, right now, they are living in the moment. It's such a good way to live.

I don't want them to grow up any more. I don't even know if I'm entirely at peace with Anna being in school full time. What will Abe do? He will be missing his other half. It just doesn't seem fair. Not even the most violent of fights between them seems like a good enough reason to separate them. They just belong together. Just like they belong with me and with Mike.

This little secret area will be there after school, but it's not the same. It'll be different. And they will be different. The future will bring wonderful new things but I today I don't feel excited by that. Today I just want to hold on tight to what we have and force it to sit still.