Sunday, August 11, 2013

Down to One

It has been 8 years since I have been the mother to only one child. But as of this morning, I am again only caring for one for the entire week. Max has been gone already a week to Y camp, and Cal & Spence just got on the bus for their first one week camp experience this morning.

It feels super weird.

The quiet alone is disruptive. I am not being pulled in 4 different directions by 4 different pitches of "Mom, Mom, Mom..." Leo is at a play date right now, and Omar is out of town, which means I HAVE NOTHING TO DO. Now, of course, there is always something to do, but I have the freedom to browse through that list at a leisurely brunch-style-menu fashion. I think I will go for a run. This will be followed by a long hot shower.

I could then tend to the laundry, but you know what. I ain't gonna. Not gonna do it. I think I will, instead, either read or go to a coffeehouse and write.

And I'll miss by boys a little bit...

Friday, August 9, 2013

The Beauty of Sadness

When our friends, the Eklund's, let us all know they were moving, my first reaction was to turn my gaze away while silently saying "Why? Why? Why would they do that?" in my head. "Why would you ever want to leave us?" I kept a straight face, saying outwardly "Wow! That is really exciting for you guys!" and probed for further details as I tried to not let my own sadness overcome their news. It was like the "amicable" breakup in college where you are telling yourself "Yeah, you are right. This isn't working out. It's better this way. I'm totally cool with it" when you are TOTALLY NOT COOL WITH IT. The blow was softened by the qualifier that they were moving out of state, not just to a different neighborhood (which may sound odd, but the fact that it was for work and not just a new house felt better somehow). It was also softened significantly by the news that this move was (probably) temporary - New York City for 2 years.

There are so many different flavors of friendship. Acquaintances, casual drink friends, frequent dinner friends, work friends, tell-all friends, distance friends, used-to-have-a-lot-in-common friends, college buds, grad school pals. But then there are the friends who are a part of you. A part of your family. Friends that make you laugh to the point that you can't breath, and who are part of the daily fabric of your life, even if you don't see them every day. Friends with whom you can be completely, blatantly, unflatteringly yourself, and they love you all the more for it. Friends who you can cry with as comfortably as laugh with. These are the friends who are the family you choose, in addition to the family you are born into.

These are the Eklund's.

As with most precious things, rarity is one of the criteria. There are only so many friendships that can bore into you so deeply. It is also harder, I think, to make those friendships at this point in life. Everyone is busy - jobs, kids, family, exercise, making dinner, doing the homework. Where is the time to really give of yourself freely and honestly with the intention of knowing someone else as fully as you can?

So, we cry.

And then laugh. I thank my lucky stars that I cared so much about a friendship that it would hurt so much to say "see you later." And we will see you later. It won't be the same around here without you guys. But how completely fortunate our gang has been to find each other, love each other and grieve each other. It is a beautiful thing.