Empty House

Tracy and I slept in this morning. She's sick with some kind of stomach bug and has been sleeping off an on since about two yesterday afternoon. I had dinner last night with my in-laws, a quiet birthday celebration, and, since Tom was going to watch Shea today anyway, I left her there to spend the night.

I seem to be adjusted to waking up early, well, early for me, and early for a part-time bartender. I woke at eight, drifted in and out of sleep until nine-thirty when I gave up the ghost of getting more. I showered, came down to a pot of fresh brewed coffee. Even when Tracy is sick she can't help but do some of the smaller things that are a part of our daily routine. The pot is full, she hasn't had any of it. She made it for me. It's the way she operates.

So, I've spent the morning alone in the living room, checking emails, reading An Unfinished Life by Mark Spragg and listening to the invading silence of a house empty of our child. It flashes me back to a time when our daughter wasn't around, when my wife and I were single, enjoying each other's company, and living only for ourselves.

I have to say that it's easier to get stuff done when I'm alone like this, no cartoons, no electronic toys, no child underfoot, but I yearn for my daughter and miss her when I don't get to see her. I haven't felt the soft press of her lips giving me a morning kiss. I haven't held her in my arms, her head falling to my shoulder as she hugs me when I lift her from her crib.

This is my new life, the way things are going to be from now on, and I can't think of a better way to live. There are so many things about my life that are richer, more intense, even joyful. I wonder what levels of joy felt like ecstasy before she came into our lives. I wonder how the levels of happiness can be pushed beyond what I had felt before and if they will continue to grow and expand. My life threatens to overtake me sometimes, to push me beyond the known levels of contentment and peace and burst my heart with a bliss that comes only from loving.