Dust if You Must

Dust if you must, but wouldn't it be better,
to paint a picture or write a letter,
bake a cake or plant a seed,
ponder the difference between want and need?

Dust if you must, but there's not much time,
with rivers to swim and mountains to climb,
music to hear and books to read, friends to
cherish and life to lead.

Dust if you must, but the world's out there
With the sun in your eyes, the wind in your hair,
A flutter of snow, a shower of rain.
This day will not come around again.

Dust if you must, but bear in mind,
old age will come and it's not kind.
And when you go - and go you must -
You, yourself, will make more dust!

(anon)

This morning I ran across a partially filled glass of water right in the spot where Julianne had left it.  She and the "littles" have been gone for 2 days and I just barely noticed it.  Do you think I moved it?  No.  It'll be a while.  The night before they left, I was leaving the kitchen after everyone had gone to bed.  For some reason I turned around and scanned the counter tops, where macaroni, bananas, fish crackers, cookies, and starburst candy had all been distributed lovingly for 3 weeks.  (It was snack bar city!)  I stood there with my hand on the light switch.  Do you think I turned it off?  No.  Not until I replayed those sweet faces and voices in my head for a few minutes.  No.  I'm not ready to clean off the crumbs just yet.
 It'll be a "little" while.

Another good reason not to dust!