I really appreciate the support you've shown me over these past few weeks. The words of encouragement, the shoulder to cry on, all of it. Sometimes I forget that I have friends out there, and you have shown me that even though I have a history of reaching out pretty sparingly, I still have a rock solid support system of good people. So thank you.
Quarantine ended the other day, work starts tomorrow, and that means I have had the past few days to be in the tiny house all by myself. To experience the place as something quiet and private, to paint, to play my block flute, to cook for myself, has been nice to do. I cleaned the place, washed all the bedding, scrubbed the shower and kitchen sink, swept the floor ...
And now what? Because this awesome house takes no time at all to keep clean, I have run out of things to do. I have a whole list of projects I was going to tackle over these past few days, and I did them all. Yes, I could go explore Tooele a bit better than I have. I should probably do that so my boys can still have a positive experience when they're with me. I don't want them to think that every time they're here it has to be like quarantine.
The issue is I haven't had to manage this amount of free time since before I was married. With the kids and a busy house life, there weren't chunks of "me" time that were this big. When I had the house to myself because my wife and kids were away, it was a rarity. It was time to relax and do what I wanted to do. It was time to turn up the TV and watch my favorite sci-fi/fantasy series and be grateful for it.
I don't remember it ever lasting for days in a row. It was an evening or a whole day at most, it seemed. To have the boys here for 14 days and then to suddenly have them not here at all has been a huge wave to manage. I know that as I start work tomorrow it'll be easier to fall into a rhythm, something I still haven't had a chance to do yet even though I've lived here three weeks. I imagine establishing a good rhythm may take many months, though. This ebb and flow of having the boys here all to myself and so obviously NOT having them. The beautiful--and frustrating--noise of laughter and games juxtaposed with silence. The welcome mess with them here. The frigid sense of order with them not here. The dynamic energy of boys getting into mischief, and the feeling of the world holding its breath while they're gone.
This house fills with life and light when my boys are with me. And when they are elsewhere, it's like they take it all with them, and it is up to me to decide what is left behind. But it's so different from what life has been these past ten years. After I finished my projects and chores, I filled this weekend with incessant waiting. Waiting for the day to end. Waiting for the next day to end. An inability to start things that make me happy because I seem to have all the time in the world to get them done, and that's not what I'm used to.
Again, I start work tomorrow, and I'm sure I will find a new sense of normalcy when this new routine takes hold.
Until then, I'll let you know how it goes.
Again, thank you for your support, my friend.
Warmly,
D
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