I walked towards the mid-sized two-level house with my hands in the pockets of my jeans.  The house was white, but the paint was old and peeling.  I moved up three small stairs to the front porch and I was surprised as the door opened.  An elderly lady hobbled past me without a word.  I thought it strange, but I was unable to devote any further thought towards her.  My attention was drawn to another woman who was leaving the house.  She appeared to be in her late twenties, but she looked as if she had seen much grief since the last time I had seen her.  She was once the love of my life, but things changed and we found reason to go our separate ways.  That was at least seven years ago.  I had heard that she had found someone else after I left, but that was  the last I’d heard.  And here she stood in front of me now, not seeming the least bit surprised to see me after seven long years. 
 “What are you doing here,” she said bluntly, crossing her arms.
 “I don’t know,” I said with a shrug, “I was just wandering through.”
 “Look, I really don’t want to talk to you right now,” she said.
She brushed past me and down the porch steps into the yard.  I didn’t know what else to do, so I stepped inside the house.  The entry way was small.  I moved into the hallway.  To my right was a set of stairs leading to the second story of the building.  I mounted these stairs and paused at the top to look around.  I took a left around the corner and down another hall.  Here I stumbled upon three small children.  The eldest looked to be about three years old.  He had curly blonde hair and wore nothing but a diaper and a small white T-shirt.  The second looked about two years old. She had slightly darker, longer hair than her older brother.  The last was no older than twelve months.  He also shared the common hair color. 
 “Hey guys,” I said gently, not wanting to frighten them, “what are you doing up here?”
 “Weew dust pyayin’,” said the eldest.
 “Where’s mom?” I asked wondering if these children belonged to the woman I had just spoken to.  If that was so then the father was obviously long gone. 
 “See’s downtaiws,” the eldest said as he picked up the smallest by grabbing him under his arms.  Before I could stop him, he took off for the stairs with the other toddler following.  I got to the top just as he began going down.  He took it one stair at a time, carefully carrying his little brother in front of him, his feet swinging back and forth with the rhythm of his brother’s motion.  I followed the trio down the stairs and caught up to them in the entry way.  I picked up the two boys in one arm and the little girl in the other.  I looked up as the woman returned from outside.  She just stood and looked at me with an expression that showed many emotions at once.  Confusion, joy, grief, love; I could see all those at once.  I said her name.
 “I don’t understand,” she responded, shaking her head slightly as if to try to clear her head.  I stood there in front of her, holding her children and I said softly, “This is who I’m supposed to be.”
And she began to cry.