More Questions than Answers

Our son was delivered back to us on Saturday morning. At the Costco parking lot to be exact. It was really good to have him back. As much as I enjoy the freedom when he is with the in laws, I miss him a lot. We scooped his carsick self up from his grandmother and went straight to math tutoring. That was cut short because said son had organized an outing with his classmates at Dave and Buster’s. I was asked by my son to not chaperone, mostly because I have no qualms about yelling at other people’s children, if it is warranted. But the mom yelling fears were unfounded since, all of the kids were really well behaved.

 I joined my significant other who was with two other moms toward the end of the outing. We really wanted to make sure that all the kids were picked up by their parents. We actually ended up waiting with one of the boys for his dad to come. We sat outside of a Starbucks at one of the tables and chatted. And this boy, who, we had never really spent much time with, was completely at ease with us. It was like he had known us forever. I was impressed. The time flew. And while we totally wanted to dig out, it wasn’t a chore to stay there while we waited for his dad. I hope that my own son projects the same confidence and maturity as this boy did.

 We decided to forego the Saturday church service and instead attend the Sunday service that had a choir. We wanted to give it a try. When we walked in we saw Susan, the woman we had met last week. We said hello. That felt nice, to know someone. The singing by the choir was truly beautiful. It was a long service. Longer than Saturday. We talked afterwards and agreed that we kind of liked the Saturday service better (or maybe just me). It was more intimate. The Pastor who provided the sermon on Saturday struck a chord with me. More so than today’s sermon, from a different pastor. I think that we will go back to the smaller Saturday mass. In the informational piece that the church puts out, the Pastor who I particularly like, wrote about the last prayer (otherwise known as Compline – I just learned this). He calls Compline “a wonderful way to contemplate the coming week and marinate in the music and prayers.” I can’t lie. I love that. I am still not all in but I think that this is good for our family. We will continue to attend.

 All of this is tied into a weekend where we spent part of it picking up furniture from my coach/mentor/friend’s apartment. She has lived in Hawaii a very, very long time and she will be moving to Portland in a couple of weeks. If you have ever run the women’s 10K, she is the person with the bullhorn on a ladder or a van, discussing the race and choking up. Some of her stuff is populating my place. She gifted my son a set of bongos and I am questioning whether or not she actually likes me. We have had one goodbye dinner and there will be another. And then she will be gone. She has been a strong presence in my life. I don’t know that anyone will be able to fill the large KC sized void that she will leave behind. And it makes me sad. The leaving always makes me sad.

 And we will continue churching it. For the time being. As we work to fill the holes in our lives. Some holes are bigger than others and clearly unfillable. But we will continue to try to find the best way to stop them up. With bits and rags. Church and hobbies. Touristing and eating. Being together and loving. And we will do it together.


About nematomorph

Living like the rich and famous, splitting time between Hawaii and New York.
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