Monthly Archives: November, 2015

A Hole in the World

It takes me a little while to get …settled…enough that I can sit down and write for awhile on these rare days when I wake up and find nothing else immediately demanding my attention, especially like going to work, but on other days off…it could be about anything else.  yesterday, we had the kids and grandkids overnight.  I was actually quite excited to get up and see them, especially the grandkids.  It is such a…remarkable pleasure to watch them as they get in to their day and begin their play and such.

Darn.  It frustrates me to be interrupted esp when I’m just trying to get started.  Still, I know this is my life, and life is what happens to you while you are making other plans.  Heard that somewhere before.  So I’ll try to regroup.

I was thinking earlier as I made my way around, and have thought of it in several different ways, of the fact that our oldest daughter Stefanie has gone on her way as of yesterday.  Headed back to California to begin a new chapter in her life after a year in Philadelphia, and several interim months living with us.  And during these several months, she hasn’t always been there in her space, her presence has been with us in the form of a lot of her stuff, and her birds.  Today for the first time in those several months, both her and her birds are gone.

While we love to have her here, and are always glad to make a space for her when she is around, she hasn’t been around this much for many, many years.  We have made that space, and a place in our day to day existence for her, and have enjoyed it greatly.  However, now we find there is another big hole in our lives similar to that when each of the kids left home initially to strike out on their own, especially that “final” leaving when you were pretty certain that they would not be returning home again for more than brief visits.  And while we knew this, after several months of having her there again…it grew to be more like “she was home”.  We knew she wasn’t, and we did expect she would be gone again, and she was even gone for a couple of weeks here and there…it felt like she was home.

I stayed with my parents for several months one year after I’d left home for good.  Just got back from my Western trip and didn’t have a job or a place to live, and…they made a place for me in their home and their day to day lives for those months.  I didn’t move so far away as Stefanie, but I did finally leave their home for good.  And I can never go back to that again as they are passed away.  But now, I can know how they might have felt when I came…and when I left.

Darn.  Even Damn!  I must have hit a wrong button and lost it for a while.  I am getting a little better about things on computers these days.  I was able to re-find this page, but not without moving to a different location in the house where I could get a stronger internet access signal.  But like I say.  That irritate the hell out of me when I get interrupted.  Frustrates the energy out of me.  And interrupt my train of thought.  I’m back now, but not sure where I was headed.

The word “hole” was floating around in my head, even as part of a title for this post.  But I think I had more to say…maybe about that hole that we are left with when a child leaves home…for good.  Not sure there ever will be another time like this was…with any of our other kids.  It changes your whole lifestyle in little ways.  Some days we would go all day without even seeing her.  She works on a different time schedule that we do.  And like I said, some times she would not even be here for days, but we knew she would be good.

I had hoped I would get an hour or two uninterrupted to write here.  When I am uninterrupted, it certainly makes for a more cohesive piece of writing, but life doesn’t always work that way.  Even as I try to settle down from another interruption, I note my signal going in and out, and wonder when it may disappear altogether.  Don’t know why I get so rattled and frustrated when interruptions happen.  You’d think I’d be more used to it after all these years.  But no, it bothers me greatly.   I can feel my unease, and see the words now all over the place.  A noise outside catches me attention.  Lock me in a silent soundproof room with only my thoughts and my writing tools to keep me company.



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