Rob

 Rob is home for the summer. We went to sleep last night not long after the baby and today we woke up to a quiet house. 

I was rushing about as usual and Rob stopped me. “Go write.” So this morning he is playing with Welles and giving her breakfast and singing her silly songs. And I’m writing and watching the birds. 

Rob has been going nonstop for the past year. In three years he has become a father of three, a special education teacher, a husband, the sole breadwinner of our family and held me up while my mom began to disappear. He has chronic pain that we never hear about because he moves through life determined to do right by others, remain selfless and humble, and be the first to raise his hand when needed. 

He works with kids that have no voice. They are the ones that are pushed aside by society for being different and complicated and misunderstood. He teaches with the most incredible and humble human beings I have ever met. And he more than fits in. He shines. I know he will miss his kids. The struggles he faces with them. He will miss being the shoulder they can cry on and the strong arms that will hold them up.

But it’s just for the summer. And then he will go back. Stronger than before. 

And for now we have him. We will have his shoulders to hang onto. And his silly songs. And his easy laugh. We will try to fill him up with love so that he can take it out into the world next fall. And be someone else’s hero.