Pulling into the driveway of my empty house, I sigh uneasily as I turn off the ignition. Another evening of peace and quiet. Too much peace. Too much quiet. Yet before the negative thoughts can settle in and begin to take root, I notice my daughter's footprints on the dashboard of the car. An image pops into my head of the weekend that we just shared together. After I picked her up from school, she immediately took her shoes and socks off. She then began happily chattering away about her day as she pressed her toes into the dust that had settled under the windshield. Still smiling to myself, I walked up to the front door of my house and let myself in. Remembering her ballet that played out in my car, as I stepped over the threshold of the porch into my foyer, my mind was immediately saturated in other memories of our wonderful weekend together.
- Her Scrabble board game left sitting on the hearth reminding me of the dozen games that we had played over laughter and conversation.
- The cushions that she had arranged on her hammock out on the porch as we talked about all kinds of important things and enjoyed the weather outside.
- The container from the new video game that I had bought for her sitting on the living room floor where she tossed it in her excitement.
- Her afghan on the couch where we had relaxed together after we had run about town on our errands.
- The empty donut box sitting on the counter. I can still see her eyes light up as I gave her permission to have one on the way home from the store just as it was getting close to lunch time.
- Her flips flops sitting by the couch providing a reminder that she feels comfortable relaxing with me.
- The take-out container from our favorite Mexican restaurant where we got lunch as a treat.
As I take in the scene in that one moment, the whole weekend replays through my mind. Laughter, fun, silliness, and time together just fill me with wonderful feelings. I don't see a mess to be cleaned up, but a wonderful memory that will get me through the evening in strength. The topper comes when I see the unopened box of brownies on the kitchen counter - her absolute favorite dessert. We just got too busy enjoying our time together to get around to making them.
Pulling into the driveway of my empty house, I sigh uneasily as I turn off the ignition. Another evening of peace and quiet. Too much peace. Too much quiet. Yet before the negative thoughts can settle in and begin to take root, I notice my daughter's footprints on the dashboard of the car. An image pops into my head of the weekend that we just shared together. After I picked her up from school, she immediately took her shoes and socks off. She then began happily chattering away about her day as she pressed her toes into the dust that had settled under the windshield. Still smiling to myself, I walked up to the front door of my house and let myself in. Remembering her ballet that played out in my car, as I stepped over the threshold of the porch into my foyer, my mind was immediately saturated in other memories of our wonderful weekend together.
