Eyes still crusted from sleep, I close my bedroom door quietly, and notice a dull light coming from my son's windowsill.
His door is open. Anticipating the reason, I quietly pad out to the living room. The ceiling fan is on, and there is a long-legged lump on the couch, encased in a fuzzy ivory throw blanket.
I tiptoe past him and into the kitchen, the rubber dots on my sleep socks making soft sticky sounds on the linoleum. I get my coffee brewing as quietly as I can. Foregoing my usual routine of emptying the dishwasher and reading in the living room, I pass him again on my way to the study.
Soft light on, I begin to type out my post. I hear the coffee machine beep. A figure moves in my peripheral vision and a door clicks shut.
The couch is empty except for the discarded blanket. I empty the dishwasher, pour my coffee, and make my way back through the dark to the keyboard. I feel no annoyance over the disruption of my morning pattern, only the bittersweet acknowledgement that these ghostly encounters will come to an end as college begins in the fall.
Such a nice slice of a typical morning at your house. So quiet, dark, and peaceful. I think "Bittersweet acknowledgement" is a great way of describing your feeling and it adds a deeper level to why you didn't want to disturb your son's sleep.
ReplyDeleteIt is my quiet peaceful time...but if a child of mine moves to the couch in the middle of the night, there must be an important reason. Let sleeping teenagers lie...the house will be a bit emptier in the fall.
DeleteThese "ghostly encounters" make me realize that you know how precious time is and how you're (maybe not-so-eagerly) anticipating the change of having him leave home.
ReplyDeleteI loved the detail and the precision you used to craft this slice. I felt like I was paddling down the hall in sleep socks alongside you, Chris.
Thanks, Stacey. It's not often I get smacked in the head with a true slice of daily life, but I couldn't let this one get by me.
DeleteI love the detail too, sticky socks and all. You've shown us a poignant moment, Chris. Time moves us to consider the little things that mean so much.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Linda. Time does seem to be moving faster these days.
DeleteI can actually imagine the scene. This could be a scene in a movie. I like your words, "Eyes still crusted from sleep'.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Juliette. I stopped and paid attention to details this morning...something I need to do more often.
DeleteVery nice.
ReplyDeleteLove Ya,
Dad
Thanks, Dad.
DeleteAn empty couch is an apt metaphor of the microcosm of the empty nest. Well done!
ReplyDeleteUnintended, but definitely apt. Thanks for the insight, Glenda!
DeleteAhhhhh..."my sleep socks making soft sticky sounds..." Loved seeing with your sleep-encrusted eyes & hearing those sound-shares from your super sweet slice of life.
ReplyDeleteThanks, JoAnn. Love that teenboy of mine!
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