So this is what it is like to be an empty nester.
My children are jetting over the Atlantic right now, en route to Rome for eleven days. Those eleven days are sandwiched between two travel days. That makes 13 days, in case you are wondering and don't want to do the math. I have never liked the number 13.
I ponder the roar of the air conditioning unit outside. Nothing stirs inside, except my busy little fingers, click-clicking on the keyboard. The sky glows an ugly tan. . .then turns gray.
Why doesn't someone turn on some lights in here?
OK. I feel really creepy. I am going to go out and gather eggs and hope I feel well enough when I return to finish this post.
10 MINUTES LATER
I don't feel any better, but I think I should focus on writing because the alternative is worse. I hear the air compressor in the garage, and now that the air conditioner has cycled off, the cicadas. I check the clock.
I need cheerful music! And maybe a large mirror in the corner above me so I can see if some bad person is silently creep-creeping up behind me. Well, I could see him if someone would just turn on a light.
Little prickles tingle the back of my neck.
I check the clock again. It's only three minutes since the last time I checked. That means it is still Monday. This has to be the longest day ever! I dropped Nathaniel and Emma off at the airport at 7 a.m., but we texted back and forth whenever they weren't in the air to Newark where they would catch their flight to Rome. I talked to them a couple of times too after they arrived there.
This barren loneliness didn't set in until 5:30 when their Rome flight took off and I received two last texts from Emma, the same message repeated twice like a sad echo, "Love you!" "Love you!"
There is a strange pressure in my throat, and it is getting hard to breathe. It's making my eyes water. "Love you, too!" I whisper through my constricted throat.
No more cell phone messages or calls til they return to the U.S. I feel a pulling sensation on one side of my chest. I know what it is. My heart is being tugged out of my chest as they move farther away from me, across the dark sea.
I swing around quickly and check for bad guys creeping up on me. And check the clock. I wish it were time to go to bed and that I could sleep until it is time to pick them up at the airport again. My eyes water some more.
The sky is now black.