A Little Pause

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For three whole days I was alone. Three. Whole. Days. The longest I've spent alone in 5 years. As I dropped off Matt and the boys at the airport to head to Atlanta for Matt's sister's wedding, it was hard to look at my children's faces as I pulled away, a mix of excitement for the plane ride and bewilderment that I was driving away without them. My aim, in their absence, was to somehow indulge myself without guilt. I had planned dinner with friends each night, one with an old friend in town from New York, who I always look forward to catching up with. Indeed there was lots of food happiness as evidenced above. There was a movie with my mom, a sunset walk on the beach, a new book to start, a massage, three mornings of sleep past dawn. It was blessing given the tough week that is ahead. By the third day I noticed myself returning to my solo, pre-married days when I would visit the newsstand in New York and return home with a 50-pound bag of magazines. This time there was Interview, New Yorker, Sunset, Gourmet, Harper's, Another Magazine. I even splurged on a French Vogue. 


The quiet that fell on my home was like a sigh at first, but as the days passed, it became too silent, even with music on. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of loneliness. With the focus of the moment turned only on me, it felt self-indulgent. But at the same I wanted to squeeze the juice out of everything because it would be many years before this would happen again. Such is the duality of motherhood. 

As I pulled up to the airport curb Sunday and saw my boys come into view, it was relief. Relief that they were all home safely and that the rhythm that has come to define the deepest essence of my life had returned. Now there was no more time for leafing through 15 magazines, there would be dinner to cook and a kitchen to clean. Now there were no walks on the beach, there would be baths to give, and pajamas to put on, and stories to read, and lullabies to sing. I've long made peace with the things I've had to let go of. Even in little enjoyable pauses like this one, I know there's no other reality that better suits me. Welcome home guys.