I’m sitting on the couch in the livingroom, after reading through blog archives from 11 years back, searching for a photo of Caleb with his wooden Thomas trains.
School has begun again, and he is now a freshman in High School. He takes drum lessons, is in marching band and also playing football. He’s taller than I am, with light brown, wavy hair, blue eyes, strong arms and legs, and most likely wearing Hollister clothing (my boys’ favorite).
I was busily vacuuming the floors when they left for school this morning, when I stopped in my (train) tracks and turned off the vacuum.
Caleb recently turned 14, and for his birthday we bought him his most requested and beloved gift of dreams…….and it wasn’t a Thomas train like it was 11 years ago.
It was an electric drum set.
I took him to Guitar Center to pick it out. We were there for a very long time, because he wanted to try out every sound and every feature. He was in his own little world, sitting there and moving the wooden sticks, making beats, listening, enjoying himself.
A week ago, I found Sarah Joy prowling around in the storage room in the basement. She was looking for things forgotten about and the next thing I knew, the wooden crate of Thomas trains and tracks were back in the land of family again. They had been away for so long. I was charmed as I watched Seth and Sarah down on the floor, pushing them, setting up track, and making up stories.
Once upon a time, these same trains took naps with a smallest blond haired boy, he covered them in sugar, and paint, and golden glitter. He threw Devious Diesel into the pond, never to be seen again, because he didn’t like him. He parked his trains under the pancake griddle as I made breakfast. He let one roll down the auditorium (it was James) during his older siblings’ music concert, he carried them in his little paws, everywhere. He not only played with trains, he also watched the videos and read the books, he even had Thomas bedding and clothing.
Now he plays with drums. He carries drumsticks in his hands.
So, this morning I stopped in my (train tracks). The house was empty and quiet and the tracks had led me to Caleb’s drum set and a bunch of his old playmates parked underneath. Somehow, as I stood and considered, I imagined that the trains must have whispered to Caleb’s little brother and sister to put them close to where he would be.
Maybe he would play with them again, later.