I woke up this morning and headed straight for the coffee. As I was standing in the kitchen waiting for the dang pot to finish, I began to look around the kitchen. The only sound was the dripping of the pot. I started feeling little pangs of sadness creep into my head. I started thinking about past Sunday mornings. Hearing the sounds of my children laughing, playing or fighting. The kids running through the kitchen. Each one requesting their Sunday morning favorite: Felisha wanting pancakes and the boys wanting breakfast burritos. Cartoons playing in the background. One grabbed the plates, one the glasses and the juice and the last one grabbed the silverware. The clinking and clacking sounds of setting the table. The laughter, the bickering, the stories....The sound of life. Memories... Back then I was too busy to be lonely or to feel alone.
I try to convince myself that I enjoy my peace and quite. I like not having to clean up a dirty kitchen and play referee. I like having the TV to myself...
The phone rings, it is Felisha calling to say good morning. She asks if I am crying. I lie, she knows anyway. "Mom, what's wrong?" The girls want to say good morning. Tattianna say's: " Nanna, mom is making pannicakes! Wanna come over?" Smiles...sure baby, Nanna's going to get dressed. See you in a few minutes.
The phone rings again, it's Andrew. "Good morning mom!" "Andrea is making a roast tonight." Can you come over for dinner? He whispers, "Mom it is her first roast, can you come early and give her a few pointers?"
Maybe I don't need to convince myself anymore. I have the best of both worlds. Maybe I am a little bit lonely. But I am definately not alone............
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