The clothesline. A baby on a blanket in the yard. A breeze. Sunshine. Kittens.
These are things that will always equal Baby Katie in my mind and heart. So many times, this is where we went when the sleep deprivation made the house too small. So many times, this is where we went when the days got too long or the unpacked house got too overwhelming. So many times, this is where we headed when Brady didn’t get home fast enough.
It always made everything better. I can still hear her moving around on that blanket, in the crunchy grass. I still feel my neck turning back to her every couple of seconds, to make sure Curly the Cat hadn’t gotten in her face or settled in her baby lap. And I can still feel that pang of “darn it” when I ran out of clothes to pin up on my grandma’s clothesline.
This is the same clothesline she used when I was little; where sheets and towels flapped on every line. My sister and I would walk in and out between them, trying to hide, pretending stuff, and smelling them.
She looks a little unsure of the process. Or maybe just of my ability to hang it up right, without leaving little pucker marks on her clothes.
Spring. What a beautiful thing. I can almost feel how warm – but not hot – it is and feel the little bare baby legs and see all the things running through the yard and flying through the big, old pecan trees.
Drop something and get a little, crinkly leaf stuck to it? No biggie…just shake it out. The wind will soon be flipping those little baby clothes around so violently, nothing but the pink will stick.
Katie was such a helper, too…when I was ready for the next piece of clothes, there she was, handing it up to me.
At this point, it feels like light years until we can hang clothes out again, but I know it will be here before we know it. We’ll bemoan the fact that we can’t go outside, cut out little pink hearts, start perusing Easter dresses, and BOOM. Clothesline weather.
We’re starting to miss you a little, Spring. Don’t be long, hear?