this mug

A few days ago I was rummaging through a few bags by the door in the downstairs mudroom and came across one that was delivered by Jim as they cleared out B’s space at work. In it I found B’s constitution mug, so pulled it out and am having coffee in it for the first time this morning. This mug was so B.

On Sunday I was trying to get some tray tables out of the closet where B kept his coats, where I haven’t gone much. I pulled out a stack of wrapped Christmas presents that we bought for B but he never got to open. We didn’t know then how long he had.

These kinds of discoveries are less frequent than they used to be, making them all the more potent when they appear. They bring back sadness and loss, joy and connection, and strangely, gratitude when I hear myself think: Yes - evidence of B. It really all did happen.

Lately I’m find myself sometimes writing nuggets in my head. There is so much meaning and intensity to our days; disparate breadcrumbs across time weave together into insights and perspectives I had never known before. But I don’t get to writing them lately.

My small business is thankfully getting moving again and I’ve had some trips on the books that couldn’t be delayed. After being mostly grounded for a few years, I’m back in the air just a bit - last week in Dallas and taking off in a few hours for Seattle. Leaving the family is much harder than it used to be - partly because separation feels weightier, but also because the logistics are never-ending.

Lately, the dominant theme for me has been becoming a single parent and trying to figure out how to be everywhere at once. It used to be that for a normal weekend of sports and activities, we would divide for alone time with each kid and their events, and then join up at a restaurant or at home around the dinner table and a movie. Even when B was sick, he was on and off able to jump in with logistics, and even later when being out was hard, he was at home to be a parent and partner in the house. Now weekends are a single stream of tightly coordinated back to back handoffs with me behind the wheel, often in motion from early morning to late evening, with several hiccups in between. The driving time has become precious - and although I do need to outsource it some, I also relish the time in a box where we can stare at the road and talk, or not.

I will need a new, saner plan for the fall, but September is so very far away. Although we will be traveling a lot, we are all looking forward to this summer, where we will also be home between excursions, and we hope the pace will slow and we can catch our breadth.

I’ve just invested in a fence around the yard (if you’ve seen the gravel pit next to our house, you’ll understand why) and am counting the days until installation. Hopefully, this summer you will find us out there on the patio most evenings. Or we’ll be playing badmitten or frisbee golf. Hopefully you’ll be coming by to BBQ or Salad with us, or just dropping by. You can bring your offspring and your dogs and we can put our feet up and talk, or not.

If you don’t live nearby, our Bed and Breakfast is open again for business. Here you make your own coffee.

Peace and spring,

NW

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In the spirit of the handoffs above, I couldn’t write this above without thanking the families who are opening their time and their hearts to help keep us moving. The list includes everyone who reads this blog and more, but over the past month, it wouldn’t have been possible without coordination, carpools, last minute drop-offs and sleepovers with the Lindborgs and the Metzgers, the Ostrowers and the Dagans, the Librettos and the Mathurs, the Bains and the Shapiros, and if I left you off this list, it’s because I love you most and didn’t mean to; i’m a little forgetful these days.