Each one has immersed me in another world, and I'm a little disoriented coming back to myself, leaving my new found dream life behind. I'm moving on now to Friday Night Lights. Lots of brain noise these days. It seems to be affecting my ability to write here.
The girl I love is away working at winter camp this weekend. The boy I love, having decided to forgo that alcohol soaked college rite in Ft. Lauderdale, is considering staying in his college town and working during spring break. He has an incentive to save as his girl is a plane ride away in England.
There is a loneliness that comes with your children leaving home, even for rehearsals as my friend Isabella calls these little leave takings. I feel the particular sort of lonely that I knew in my twenties, except now I am standing still and staring it in the face, not running away as I did back then. How fascinating to realize that the absolute absorbtion of raising children can so effectively hold that loneliness at bay. It's back now. My old friend.
I don't think men admit this loss the way women do. I could be wrong, but everywhere I look, mothers are reeling from missing their now grown babies, they are collapsing silently under the weight of it, while fathers appear to just keep on keeping on, as if everything is still the same. It's a generalization, of course. It doesn't always play out this way. But from what I can see, it often does. Maybe it has its uses. When I stumble these days, I look at my husband, stoic and pressing on and I set my compass, knowing there's no way around it, I have to do that, too.
Here is a photo of me the year I got married. I was 29. This recently unearthed image was part of my mom's 90th birthday slide show. I wish I'd appreciated myself more back then.
And here is a Hipstamatic shot my girl took of us in December. This is me now. Life giveth. Life taketh. Life moves us on. That's just how it goes. I'm not mad at it. I'm steeped in love.