Small Things

I don't really want to get into the whole  Boomerang Kids  discussion or debate. This is just how it is  today, this week, this  month; for now .
 
I have two kids, men actually. One has been  out on his own for close to 10 years and the other has not. I love my guys and more than that, I like my guys. I think they are wonderful men. I admire the people they have become. They are generous and helpful and funny. Recently they have both left town-literally.  The younger one has bounced in and out of our home for the last 3 years working in other communities and then returning home as the season geared down, travelling,  returning home, and setting off to work out of town again.  The last time he arrived home he said,

" This is the last time I am doing this. When I leave next time, I leave for good"

As the season for him to leave approached there was a flurry of activity as he sorted, filed, packed and disposed of a decade of the un-disposed detritus of life. I was pressed into service. It was bittersweet because while there was almost a decade when my mantra was "I will miss him when he's gone" the fact hit me squarely in the face. I no longer felt that way. We had moved on from that parent-child gulley of tension to an easy rhythm of respect. Still I am no fool, and  it was past time for him to be gone.

Interspersed with his preparation was his older brother's preparation to relocate after a "world tour."  We went to his soccer games -"this could be the last time" we said to each other. His Dad shared sports with him on the little screen at home and the big screen in the bar. (Small mercies- *I* am NOT a sports fan!) We shared breakfast, lunch, and dinner with him -

"Who knows when we'll do this again?" we said to each other.

Life has been a whirlwind of activity-not chosen activity but truly a whirlwind where you are picked up and swept along in our case by the energy of two whirlwinds.

Before the scheduled date, a call came and our younger son was on a plane heading out . Left behind were partially filled boxes, full hangers, unfiled taxes, tools, records and a car. Mom - that's me stepped in. I am delighted to say the taxes are filed , the car is sold and a very few of the boxes have been closed.

Elder son left a few weeks after his brother. His father and I helped him get his home ready to rent, sell his car and we ate, reminised and just plain hung out together. "We may never do this again" we said to each other.

It's been three weeks since the last plane left. My husband has taken to leaving the laundry basket right outside  our son's door when he comes up from our basement laundry room.

"I know no one is going to come barrelling through there"  he said to me one day by way of an explanation  I hadn't asked for. I nodded. I notice he has taken to parking his truck in the middle of the drive way. It is the only vehicle.  None of our friends  would expect to park on the  rear driveway. As I leave the house I grab my purse and go I notice. There is no shuffling of coats to find where my things have been buried. From time to time I find myself glancing towards the back of the house surprised to find there are no large shoes askew on the floor by the door.

I DO miss them now they are gone, and so does he. We are though, alone together at last.

Facebook

it's a love hate relationship with me. The postings are so meaningless and yet. . . from time to time there is a gem. You tell me something real- that is me and all your other friends.I'd prefer you called but we just don't have that kind of a connection but I do like to keep up with you, really I do. The thing I find so amazing and can never figure out how to share with other people is the range of Facebook friends I have.

Down the alley way from the house my family moved into when I was a teen was a young family with two kids. The mom was pregnant with a third and later went on to have a fourth. I was the eldest daughter in a large family and well experienced in child care. I babysat for them. I loved to spend my Friday nights at their home. The house was clean and well ordered and there were yummy treats. The kids were bathed and I just had to put the older boy to bed and the evening was mine.

The little girl was almost always asleep and what a beautiful little girl she was. I used to stand and watch her sleep, her silky curls on her pillow, her lightly tanned cheeks flushed and rosy. I could imagine being mother to a daughter like her with a beautiful well ordered home like that-so unlike my own home just a few steps away. I grew up and moved away and had two sons,the most wonderful caring intelligent sons. My house has never been well-ordered but it has been a happy life.

My kids grew up far from my family and the idea of leaving them with a neighbourhood teen in charge every Friday night didn't occur to me but eventually a day came when we parents needed to get out, and so we asked among our friends and found a teenaged girl well experinced in the care of young lads. She didn't come often but when she did I was so grateful! Time passed she grew up and we forgot about her but as fate would have it- and the fact that this largish town is just like that- I am now working with her. This lovely woman with two children of her own and she is my Facebook friend!

Through my younger sister I have also been in touch with the little girl I babysat for every Friday through 1963 to 1967 and SHE is my Facebook friend also! As I wade through the meaningless and the pointless posts I see updates from both of these women and I am amazed at the ground that Facebook allows me to cover from my teens through my mommy days and on until today and I am grateful for the pearls I find along the way.

Autumn Leaves

The words have been running through my tuneless mind. I had to stop raking the leaves, come into the house and listen. I hope you enjoy Paula Cole.
If not, perhaps Eric Clapton will warm your heart.
Enjoy!

In the afternoon

we play Scrabble without keeping score.
On Sunday, side by side, as the sunlight begins to wane
It's the pleasure of your company that brings me to the board.

Greybeard

Although we have grown old together, I have never again seen your chin.

the days are long

The days they are long but the years fly by- a beautiful and moving tribute!