The Last Day

I stood in front of my children, all seventeen of them. Their parents sat behind them, but I wasn't talking to the parents at the moment. "Just one thing: You have to say goodbye before you leave!"

Instantly, "GOODBYE!" they all chorused snarkily, and giggled. So did the parents. I put my hands on my hips.

"Not now!" I tried to be grumpy. "And you have to give me a hug before you go, too."

It was too much for them. Suddenly I found myself in the middle of a squish of little bodies, wrapping their arms around me and around each other in an overflow of love. It didn't register until hours later that that precious sandwich, with me as the fixin's, was the beginning of the end of our time together.

One of my darlins...