Monday, April 1, 2013

Single Light in the Upstairs Window

We had a really nice Easter yesterday (round one of two as Orthodox Easter comes next month).  Stayed up late making baskets that were thoroughly appreciated and then got up early to hide the eggs (fully convincing the girls that Karma had just chased the Easter Bunny over the hill as they came down stairs).  We then tromped over to my moms house where 9 grand kids (and 2 honorary grand kids - our friend was down from Nor Cal with her son and daughter who stayed the weekend with us then joined in the festivities) were greeted with a sea of eggs covering the front lawn.  It was, all in all, a very nice day.  Afterwards Gina and the girls headed up to the Ventura County coast with Hayley to spend  a few days relaxing at the beach.  Karma and I headed home.  When we bought the house it was so joyous to hear the walls echoing (still have limited furniture for such a big place) with laughter and screaming and fighting.  But as incredible as that much sound is, it's equally as deafening in it's silence.  I didn't even remember to turn the lights on until well after 8; even then it was lone kitchen light or side lamp near the bed.  At first I was able to keep busy with task - got a new table saw last weekend so I broke it in finishing the hardwood in the casita.  But by sundown the wind kicked up and I was relegated to indoor activities.  With out bath time or stories; with out dinner and the subsequent clean up; with out fights to mitigate and bellies to blow on, the air in my lungs seemed wasted; useless.  I paced from room to room, looking for something to do other then veg on the couch.  Finally I yielded around 9, did some sit ups and went to bed.  Falling a sleep is difficult in that much silence.  I woke around 1 AM and noticed light (with no hallway night lights on, it gets pretty dark) coming from the girls room.  In a panic I leapt from bed and rushed through their door.  It was the street lights.  Streaming in through rarely open blinds.  Just  another reminder that I was alone in a great big house.  Puts in perspective how much your family becomes you.  With out them around, you're really just a shell.

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