The Frying Pan the Day After

The frying pan sits in the dish drying rack by the sink, just as I left it yesterday morning before driving our youngest to college for his freshman year. My eyes lock onto it and I try to grasp its meaning. My emotions rise and then subside, rise higher and then subside, now take hold and won’t let go. Yesterday morning seems so long ago, yet here is the proof. We have crossed over into a new place since yesterday, a place very far from where we had been. There will be no more trips to Sam’s Club to get bottles of sports water by the case or large bags of granny smith apples or crates containing two dozen eggs. There will be no more half-sleep as we wait for the aging Honda Element with the dent from a misguided football pass to arrive home by midnight and no more complaining about messy rooms. I will get all my old chores back. Hello lawnmower and snow shovel and trash cans. There will be no more children of ours in this house because they aren’t children anymore and they will only come to visit now. They will send text messages and sometimes they will email photos. Maybe they will call now and then. And we will stop in the doorways of their old rooms and think and remember.

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4 responses to “The Frying Pan the Day After

  1. This is very very good. I’m tearing up.

  2. Nice, poetic thoughts. As near nesters ourselves, we will watch and learn from those just slightly ahead. As you are someone who gets fully engaged in what eer you do, it will be interesting to see where your energies get focused going forward.

  3. Thoughts are easier than emotions to express in words. You’ve done a nice job with both!

  4. You write beautifully and have captured the feeling of lingering at the door frame staring into their rooms and remembering…
    Thank you.

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