The little things are the big things

I tend to think with a passion, to have emotion behind all that runs through my head. Forgive me if this and the last post are weighted to a sort. My dear husband does not analyze as I, so here is where I can put my thoughts to a reality.
In this world there is so much evil. As I sit here trying to participate in my husband's new interest a drama called the Pacific. It is a t.v. show on HBO based on the events of World War II in the Pacific. But, for me this is a hard area to relate. There is no hidden part to the large amounts of death in every moment of the War. It is such a strong theme I am amazed at the masses who remain interested. Reminders of what was cost to make this land even I take for granted are necessary yet I just can't choose to 'enjoy' it like he does.

I did recently finish a book called Briar Rose. It was a pick intended to be a shared by the kids and I but soon became a read for only me. This book recounted a woman's journey to discover who her grandmother was before entering the United States during World War II. It too told storied based on very real truths of the Holocaust. It was captivating, moving and life altering. I suppose all this coming together 1 week from the death of the baby I did not know makes for mental frustration. In these two events I can feel so lucky because I live in such a time as this. I am in a safe, warm and comfortable home. Here I sit on my computer with all 4 kids snuggled in their beds. I know when I wake I will have food for my family, a car to drive them to school and time to enjoy my 2 youngest children. Yes, I think it is those things I will cherish knowing the above very real events.

Let me paint a picture of what I close my eyes and see instead of war misery. I see a little red head saying sit mommy sit. A little girl that insisted on putting both her legs inside my white tshirt that was not big enough for her 25lb body and mine to fit. Who said night night mommy when I asked her what she was doing. She giggled as she struggled to make herself fit.
I see 3 big kids, 1 dressed in Bumblebee the transformer outfit another in a beautiful dress, and the last in a Capt Rex Star Wars outfit running amok waving light sabers and guns attacking invisible enemies together. I look up and notice the flickering of the lights as added special effects only to turn the corner and find before mentioned redhead using her stool to turn them on and off.
I see my father picking up and bringing home my two boys to the younger one's soccer. Tolerating the nonsense of the older negotiating to spend his 12.00 pile of quarters he snuck out of the house on snacks and games. I enjoy the small nap I took on the couch because my husband took my planned menu and made dinner and my father ran the errand. I listen to my mother offer a praise report for her much needed friend. I see the playdoh birthday cake big sister made for little sister. I see joy, teamwork and love.
I see my 4 kids watch 60 minutes talk and show children in Haiti. I see the momentary awareness in their eyes so how horrible life there is compared to our soft couch where we share a blanket and snuggle together. I field the various questions about what they see and am smiling inside when at some point each of them say out loud how grateful they are to live here. Yep, the horrors of life shouldn't be forgotten but the little things in each moment really are so very big.