I was too sad yesterday. I picked my daughter up at school and she was in an especially good mood. We worked with her art teacher to find and print and laminate a picture off of the internet of Bernice Johnson Reagon, who my daughter has chosen to be the subject of a portrait each child is doing of an influential person–artist, politician or other. Then we came home. The house was a little disheveled. I was more disheveled– internally.
I had left in a hurry early yesterday morning when I planned to be home, to go to a funeral. There was clean-up to do after emptying a cabinet to take care of a plumbing problem, dishes on the table and small piles of paper that seemed more daunting than usual. So when we got home from school, I didn’t get to hang out with my daughter too much, I was pulling it together because we were having a good friend and her two daughters over for dinner.
We had a nice noisy evening with a good meal that we had mostly cooked a day ahead of time. My friend and my partner and I got to talk while the three girls played– it was so nice to be together and catch up. It’s different now than when the girls were younger, when their needs were more demanding and different from the year when the three of us adults were urgently trying to figure out together what school(s) we would get to send them to.
Days ago when we made the dinner plan, they had invited my daughter to come home with them after dinner for a sleepover, but she had told me she wanted to sleep home and go over to their house early in the morning. That was more than fine with me. Then last night she had a change of heart and left with them. Ok, good night, see you tomorrow, I said.
Now my partner is sound asleep and I have the luxury of being awake in a quiet, cleaned up house before I leave for the many things I have to do today. It turns out it’s way too quiet. My daughter and I are usually the first up, often me then she, but sometimes the other way around. And when we are up early together I am sometimes sneaking off to write or read. What a mistake. Here I am missing her, wishing my noisy, walking around, awake- with- many- ideas girl was here. I hope she’ll call soon.