It’s about 3pm on Saturday afternoon. The house is quiet – except for the mechanical hum of pumps emanating from the refrigerator and the fish tank… white-noise really. The two boys are in their rooms… sleeping I presume, since they can’t be this quiet for this long if their eyes are open and their little minds are busy plotting the next misadventure. Dar ran to the store for a few things. Outside, it’s raining and foggy and dreary.
And inside, inside my head and heart, it’s raining and foggy and dreary too. We’re only about a week from having to say “good-bye” to our Northwest Family again and getting our journey of discovery re-started. It’s always traumatic… always difficult… and I always seem to acquire this bout of melancholy after we’re camped near family for an extended period of time.
On the one hand, I really love being mobile and free… experiencing new places and situations… bringing history alive by being at the site of events that shaped our past. But on the other hand, family and friends and grandkids enrich the soil of life in a place like this… providing anchorage for my quick-growing roots and making it much harder to leave.
Rain happens. But the sun will shine soon.
T
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1 comment:
I feel your pain. Our son, DIL and two granddaughters live in Astoria, OR and we live in VA. Because we're not FT (almost) we have to fly and have 1 or 2 short visits a year. It's hard to leave and the time goes way too quick.
As soon as we hit the road next summer, we're heading there to stay for an extended time...and spoil the girls rotten! ;c)
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