Living on a Prayer

He sits in the red chair, forehead wrinkled in thought as he reads his Social Studies book.  His mouth moves as he mouths the words he's reading. 

And his Mama, unsure of anything, sits on the couch and watches. 

She sits at the desk, tiny mouth drawn as her hand grips the pencil, lead pushing into paper as she pain-stakingly writes her letters.  And her sister sits at the desk next to her, an Anatomy book open.  This 4 year old who is learning the names of the bones of the hand so her sister could grow up to be a nurse.

He is a pro at Ipads, at legos, at music.  She was a pro at tea parties and dress-up, necklaces and high heels at a young age clomping through the old wooden floors in the log house. 

And that Mom and that sister, she was taught how to play Barbies and how to love by the first, and how to text and love deeper by the second.

And tonight, she fights back tears as she thinks of that little girl, yellow car all packed up, knowing that he'll be next and then her heart really will be ripped from her chest.

But last night, all together, for once the boy and his aunt pretended to get along.  And the Mom and the sister sat and reveled in their presence. Tiffany was on the Iphone, "I Think We're Alone Now", and that girl told her sister, "We did a dance to that when I was little." And what seemed like not really long ago, and in the seat she went through the moves.  And the younger sister said, "That's adorable..." and the Mama thought about the video where the little boy refuses to say, "That's so cute" for his aunt... "That's so stupid..." he'd say over and over. 

"Put on Living on a Prayer next", the younger sister said.  And the Mom, the older sister did.  And they sang to the tops of their lungs as she fought back those same tears she's fighting back tonight.  And she wanted to tell her, "Don't ever be afraid.  Never let anyone tell you you're not good enough.  Or that you're not beautiful.  Or that you can't do something.  Because you can.  You knew the bones in the hands when you were in fourth grade, for goodness sake... and you made me learn how to worry about something besides me." But she doesn't, because the time isn't right. 

And the little boy in the back complains because they are singing too loud... but the Mom/sister doesn't care right then. Because the words of the song are so fitting.  We're all living on a prayer, day by day, moment by moment.  We're halfway there, and we can make it.

Prayers, please, as my first little girl heads off to college.  This big sister will be missing her something crazy... and realizing that I'll blink and it will be Caleb going...