This time, this week, is different. They left me. Headed down South, my three boys, to work on the old house, touch base and reconnect. I have been alone in our new home, albeit temporary home/apartment. But it is my first time alone in Our Space, with their Lego scatterings, Tim's socks that need washing, our dishes and coffee paraphernalia.

I have come out of sleep each morning listening. Looking for a small silhouette in the doorway asking if it is was daytime yet, Mommy. And yet it is quiet, the early sunrise over the hill pulling light into the day, softening their room in its glowing. Made coffee for one, donned work attire, checked in by phone. Headed out.
Returning to a home undisturbed and silent is disconcerting. Knowing it is temporary is comforting. I have progressed in the way of sorting and quilting and 'catching up' in general. and I thank the blessed gods of all for this not being my norm.

They bring light and true Life to my days. In their churning chaos and needs, they define me. The library pulls but not enough. Making of dinner calls but not quite enough. Making is there to fulfill but also fill a hole. Me time is relative when there becomes just too much of it.
I love being a mother and wife and worker and woman and person. I love taking the time to realize that. I miss my babies, babies no longer, I admit, but I miss mine own.
I am grateful to love my life. I am eager for their return. I am trying to embrace the quiet. I am not so good with it.
Solitude vivifies; isolation kills. -Joseph Roux
