It is a quiet morning, but most of our mornings are quiet...unless the Dakota wind is blowing yet again.
It is the little things, isn't it? It is shuffling into the kitchen to start the kettle for tea...and finding it is cold. It isn't still warm from the cup of coffee she likes to take back to bed with her. The dogs are still indoors. She didn't send them outdoors to romp and 'do their business' while waiting for the coffee water to boil. As I started to fill the sink with last night's dishes, I recalled that the main reason she insisted on using a 'bowl' for the dishes was that she had no patience whatsoever with the crotchety stopper in my sink. I also realized that I am once again responsible for doing our dishes because I don't (and never will, sorry!) have a dish washer.
When I check the clock, I realize that, by now, she is already back in her own home. That home seems so far away, though I know we will chat with her today sometime via Skype (did I say Spyke?). I know she was ready to be home, though. She was ready to see for herself that her loved ones are doing well and involved with fun and exciting things. She was ready to see how her garden was doing after having been in her son's care. She was ready to be home.
I am still puttering though the morning quiet. I don't hear stirrings upstairs. I don't see the hem of her dressing gown on the stairs. I don't hear her perky morning greeting...adjusted to whether both of us are awake or not. The pillow she used as cushion on the loveseat is still there. I wash the porcelain teacup, saucer and lunch plate that she has used and enjoyed several times each day. I return her tray to its place with the others. It is very quiet here this morning.
By now, she has probably had late Elevenses after reclaiming her luggage. She has pressies in there for her grandson, but he is in school today, I think, so they will have to wait.
You are missed already, Jenny, by each and every one of us. Even the dogs and the cats feel that it is strange that you aren't still here with us. Thank you for the joy of your visit, your enthusiasm and your quiet smiles. We love you. We will now start to speak of "next year"...
