I walked back into the house as the bus pulled away this morning. I refilled my coffee cup and situated myself back at my desk. The dog paced around, finally deciding to settle in and fall asleep on my foot.
Silence descended upon the house. Loud, deafening silence.
I sniffled a little bit, feeling pretty sorry for myself. And lonely. Mostly lonely.
Thankfully, today happens to be Friday. I finished up a project, dressed like a hobo, and made my way to the coffee shop.
During the school year, I meet a group of my friends once-a-week-ish at the coffee shop for a work-coffee-friend-playdate. Until now, I’ve always had a child in tow and at one point early on, two children hanging from arms and legs and breasts. Today I didn’t have to struggle to hold the door open with one hand, balance my computer with the other and shuffle a child in the door. I just opened the door to the coffee shop, walked in and found myself a seat — and felt sad about it. Transitions are hard.
We talked of everything and nothing. Of heart surgeries and transplant waiting lists. Of Ohio’s new school grades and involved parenting. Of football and soccer and dance. Of sneakers and cleats and name brands and short shorts and outlet sales. Of first days of school and meltdowns and haircuts and the apparent 8-year-old woe that I hope is only for girls and not for boys. Of schedules and tattoos and birthdays.
I worked while we talked, having perfected this practice over three years of meeting this group for coffee, of attending playdates at other friends’ houses with my laptop on my lap, of working in the car while my husband drives. I responded to an email and smiled at my people over another sip of coffee.
I’ve been surrounded by a lot of love this week, by people who know that sending LittleBrother off to Kindergarten makes me feel all number of emotions. People have called and emailed, texted and commented, shown up at my house and met me for coffee, stood by me at soccer practice and sent me Facebook messages just to check in. My friends have surrounded me without fuss or fanfare; they have just shown up, both in real life and online, as I begin to make sense of this next phase of our life.
I feel so overwhelmed with love and thankfulness for the people in my life that I cannot adequately explain it in words. And so, in the simplest and humblest and most sincere way I can, I offer my thanks and gratitude and friendship to those who have loved and cared for me during this week.