Having had a companion for a short period in my life and known long, empty stretches of singleness before and after, I understand what Vicki Iovine's means when she says "how desperate I clearly am to distract myself from the frightening journey from wakefulness to slumber".
The day starts at the crack of dawn with every minute fully accounted for. If anything slips by a minute or and inch, the ripples of imbalance spread through the day. Like two cogs in a wheel ( I would say dancers, were it not that I had two left feet) J and I try to work in concert , get the out the door and into the world to do what we must. I earn a living, she gets a schooling. My 9-5 is a blur of balancing fragile egos, conflicting and often confusing demands on my time while getting work done. Then when it's all over, I go pick J up, catch up on her day, have dinner get some time to read , write and relax with J.
The day starts at the crack of dawn with every minute fully accounted for. If anything slips by a minute or and inch, the ripples of imbalance spread through the day. Like two cogs in a wheel ( I would say dancers, were it not that I had two left feet) J and I try to work in concert , get the out the door and into the world to do what we must. I earn a living, she gets a schooling. My 9-5 is a blur of balancing fragile egos, conflicting and often confusing demands on my time while getting work done. Then when it's all over, I go pick J up, catch up on her day, have dinner get some time to read , write and relax with J.
The house turns absolutely silent once J is tucked into bed. I can hear the low hum of the air-conditioning or heating unit depending on the time of year, the clicking of the keyboard if I am on the computer - other than that there is nothing. It is in such quietness that the full measure of my singleness begins to weigh. It is that frightening journey from wakefulness to slumber that I must take each night and find ways to make it less onerous - keep myself busy and distracted until sleep takes over with a vengeance.
The mornings are always good - unlike the nights that seem exactly alike, each day is new and full of possibility . That is when J wakes up like a small burst of sunshine inside the house. She will dance in the kitchen when I want her to finish breakfast on time for the school bus, it is when she will tell me a joke another kid told her and will not quit until I laugh "genuinely". She will hide under the blankets instead of getting dressed. Then there are days when she will be ready with thirty minutes to spare and finish the book she was reading the night before. There is no knowing how J will choose to begin our day - the inches and minutes are lost and gained in equal measure and we keep our life in precarious balance. I could not be anything but happy even if I tried to and for that I am grateful.
Comments
That is a very loaded statement, and is so true!
stumbled here pretty recently, through the link in Debdutt's blog. keep going