Thursday, February 17, 2005

Kid Warning: You probably don't want to read this.

I am so lonely. It hits pretty much every afternoon, right around this time. This used to be the busiest time of day, when I'd be starting supper for four people and my daughter's radio would be playing, and she'd be asking me homework questions and my son would be trying to get a word in edgewise about his day, and we'd all be keyed up waiting for Dad to walk in the door.

And now it's so quiet. Instead of flesh-and-blood people, I have internet relationships. Lots of groups, both Orthodox and needlework, and we chat about one thing and another, and it reminds me that there are people out there who still want to talk to me. And there's singing Matins and Vespers -- to tell the truth, that's my main reason for getting up in the morning. If I didn't have that, I would have absolutely nothing to get up for.

For Russian I had to write a short paragraph about my family. I wrote about my husband and son and daughter, and my son-in-law and grandson, and my stepfather and deceased mother, and three brothers and sister. And then I wrote that we also have nine "sheep." I named them all, and made it clear that they are just stuffed animals; but "without them," I wrote, "we wouldn't have a family." I mean, obviously we *do.* But --

It's just so quiet here. I wish my kids lived closer. Maybe I wish we lived closer to them. One thing's for sure, I never expected Empty Nest Syndrome to hit *this* bad. I just want my kids back. And that will never happen.

Just had to get that off my chest. You guys who live near the folks -- try to stay near them.
Can't help wondering if the Theotokos went through this.