Lauren and the baby girl have been away in Oxford nine days, and the house unaccustomedly quiet. The boy and I are getting along OK in the eerie space and emptiness. This afternoon, he asked if he could go for a sleep-over at Samuel’s house, and I couldn’t see a reason to say no. When I packed him off with pajamas and a book and a “stuffie” (what the kids call stuffed-animal toys these days) suddenly I realized that wow, I was alone. I could play the oddest music as loud as I wanted. I could have a wild party that ran till tomorrow. I could practice my drumming. I could, well... I dunno. What I really wanted was my family back. Then in the late northern dusk, the phone rang and it was Samuel’s mom: “We have a homesick boy here”. So I went and brought him home, and sympathized, and helped him get settled when he couldn’t sleep. And was glad to have him back under my roof.


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From: Ģirts (Jul 28 2007, at 03:46)

:) Last week we had a rehearsal with a band and then the band leader said, "Let's take a five" and kinda headed out. We looked at each other and started to play "Take Five". Somehow we started to remember parts and it was lot's of fun. I played djembe.

Then I remembered you and story you wrote years ago about djembe and "Take Five". It took a while.. thanks.


From: walt (Jul 28 2007, at 04:56)

That made me smile :-)


From: JoeC (Jul 28 2007, at 10:59)

After decades, it finally dawned on me that "Take Five" is probably called that because it's in 5/8 time. Duh...


From: len (Jul 29 2007, at 11:40)

Good. That's a sea change.

Have you had the experience where when running after your babies you become them for a second and feel your father or mom running after you? Do they still wait at the window watching for you to come home at night or from a trip?

Later on, they leave for longer periods with fewer warnings and less information and you find yourself up at night working like a hermit while they go have the fun and adventure you used to have. And somehow, that's ok.

Then one day you find yourself standing at the window waiting for them humming something from the baby years.


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