Moments

We walk together through the airport inside the silence. Disorientated after a long flight we move into the customs hall passing through space normally crowded. Suddenly we find ourselves outside, driving in a beloved city in the middle of a sunny day. 

We reach our destination. Comfort and familiarity await in the empty apartment. Family are departed but the warmth of their presence will remain. I stop in the doorway and breathe deeply. Peacefulness descends; we step inside.

Day and night bleed into one another for a while. I spend sleepy hours secluded with my children. I notice the most insignificant details; my son’s frown of concentration; the wisps of my daughter’s hair escaping her pony tail. We lie awake listening to the quiet of the night. My mind races at a million miles; perhaps it’s trying to catch up with my body. Sleep lies in a far off land, way beyond reach. 

My husband appears on FaceTime and we talk. Even the mundane suddenly seems essential; the distance between us is great and there are weeks of separation ahead. The children miss his confident presence. Trapped in lonely misery the dog sits beside him. Unable to hear our voices or see our faces through the digital distortion he is utterly unaware of our presence. 

One day the rain comes. We hear it through the open window and see the heavy skies. The flowers outside glisten brightly. The children doze. I’m reading Hemingway and thinking of Italy. He mentions all the places I want to see. Milan, Florence, Venice, Naples, Amalfi, Capri….Sleep creeps in and I dream a future dream.