I spent the day off island visiting my mother. No appointments, no grocery shopping, no agenda other than catching up and having lunch together. I straightened up some things in her apartment and read her my latest Working Waterfront column. She knows the people to whom I refer and the island is a place she misses a lot. She is the person who first taught me about birds and familiarized me with the little blue Peterson’s Guide, so I know she liked hearing the parts about recent bird traffic on the island, too.
I came home to an empty house. Bruce left this afternoon to attend the Canadian/US Lobstermen’s Town Meeting, in St. John, New Brunswick, sponsored by the Lobster Institute. I usually savor time alone in our house, and so does Bruce. It’s rare that we are both away, in different locations, at the same time, but tomorrow I am going to Rockland for a weekend class in glass bead making at Playing With Fire. I won’t have even 24 hours by myself, and instead of savoring it I am actually feeling a little lonely. I am someone who craves time alone, rarely goes to someone’s house just to “stop by for a visit,” and dreads talking on the phone. Lonely is not a word I ever use to describe my feelings. So, tonight feels unfamiliar.
As I wondered what to post on my blog, I looked over some of my older photos. What really kept jumping out at me were the pictures of our sons, Robin and Fritz. It struck me how very much I miss them tonight. They are grown men, (grown island boys) living in cities, with wonderful women who love them. They like their jobs and they are competent and successful in them. All is as it should be and just as I would have wished for them. And here I am, taking some time to miss them and to feel lucky and grateful that I will always be their mom.
Robin and his fianceé Stephanie in Napa.
Fritz and Meghan last summer in our kitchen.
Boys being boys in Baltimore.
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