Claire and Em are back at the house, hopefully napping soundly. I feel a pull from them that's hard to explain. How is it that you can spend half a lifetime trying to separate yourself from the world, to make yourself safe? Then you find yourself sitting in a food-court, separated from those you love by less than a kilometer, less than an hour, and you're all but weeping because they aren't near enough.
How does this happen, this unasked-for connection to the world? Did I carelessly leave the key where it could be found, or has time and age undercut all my carefully plumbed and trued defenses? And if so, what else is out there waiting to tiptoe in through that heart shaped hole?
It's getting full in here, I'll have to make some room.
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1 comment:
I'm happiest with my wife and kids nearby, though as I've told you, my kids are older now. Our concerns for them change over time, but at heart they're timeless. "Are the kids safe? Are they OK?" It takes different forms, but it remains the same.
Enjoy the time with your wife and daughter. It passes too quickly. Oh sure, there are nights when you've had 2 hours of sleep and it seems like forever, but trust me, it passes quickly. There comes a time when you look at them and wonder, "how did they get so tall?"
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