I am home alone today. The girls are with family, AJ is riding and I am here, by myself. And the house is not only quiet, it feels hollow and uneasy. This is a rare and treasured day. A day not to be wasted. But it sits uncomfortably on me. I miss the girls.
It is cold today and I am refusing to turn the heater on until I feel really cold. I will relish that moment when the house floods with warm air. My feet are wrapped in my favourite blanket, a sweet gift from my sister in law. My nearly numb fingers tap on my laptop. I love the muted noise of my fingers pressing on the keys.
Spotify is making me happy. The room is thick with memories dancing on old songs. Songs I wouldn’t dare play if anyone was home. Yesterday AJ and I talked about buying our 7 year old an ITunes voucher for her birthday. How did that happen?
I’m not opening the laundry door today.
I am reading and thinking and trying to find the words to make sense of the last few weeks.
I will not imagine life any differently.
I will dream of a gentle ascent towards dreams and hopes. But I will not rush towards an alternative reality. I will not wish time away. I will not hope for a quickening.
I will be content, here, amidst the fullness of what life has offered me. And I will not attempt to be, or write, in the shadow of others. I will wait out the cold and rejoice in the warmth when it comes.