It’s the first time we’re not with our two girls on Thanksgiving, since the year before Tarah was born. That’s 20 years of tradition that now has to be different. People say embracing change is a good thing. As the day unfolds, I’ll be the judge of that.
It started yesterday when I was thrilled to be working from home, so I could be there when my youngest arrived from campus. She stayed long enough to unpack the car, drop-off her laundry – and leave to meet friends for dinner. Typical. It’s happened before. They’ve been away from home long enough for me to know their world revolves around more than me.
I still didn’t have a commute, what’s-his-name and I had a nice dinner together and we’d paid the electric bill – so we were also able to leave the outside lights on. Evidently, Tarah had a long dinner with friends because of the holiday.
I can sleep before they get home nowadays but I still wake up in the early hours to check on them in their rooms. She was safe in her bed and clearly exhausted. She’d been too tired to even flick the outside lights to ‘off’.
It’s now 7:30 a.m. and I’m wondering if it was passive aggressive of me to pick this hour of the day to unload the dishwasher? Is my husband reacting the same way as he finishes baking for the day – with his Android playing The Doors? Either way, it’s got to be less disturbing than the dorms, right?
As the day only starts to unfold, I wonder if she’s in her room questioning the day she was born? I’m going to ponder that as I change out of my pajamas and fold some laundry.
Stay tuned for future “Parts” of our day…