silence...

It's quiet. 

Almost too quiet.  Coming from someone that loves the stillness of silence, that is saying something.  I can hear the hum of electricity to the various devices.  An occasional snort or snore from Neeko.  And the clicking of the keyboard.  That's all.

No sounds outside on this dreary, overcast morning.  No shouts, no dogs barking, nothing.

I guess it matches how I feel right now.  It feels empty. It feels hollow and quiet.

Soon the world will spring to life, people will wake up, activities will happen, stuff will begin. But in this small moment in time, it just feels... quiet.  The boy and his girl have returned to the coast, I was going to say sunny coast, but I am fairly sure it is raining there also.  And our girl is wrapped up in being the perfect hostess to other parts of her family.  Hubs and Neeko are sleeping. 

For two weeks I have been blessed to have my youngest home.  It is a rare thing and I cherish each moment.  He came prepared to learn new things, to spend time with me doing things I enjoy.  When he headed out, he left me his first two crochet projects.  One is hanging on the tree, the other is sitting beside me.  My Yoda's went with him, so did a large part of my heart.

I am so proud of all that he is doing in life.  He has grown into a man while I was still looking for my baby boy.  Long gone is the tow headed toddler, with chubby cheeks and sparkling eyes reaching for my hand for security. He's gone on to much greater things, he has an awesome career. He's now one of the first members of Space Force, he leads people, he is part of the future. 

I am so proud of him. 

Yet, I am so sad that he has gone back home.  I was lost last night.  I didn't know what to do with myself.  I had gotten into such a rhythm of sitting down at the table each night and helping them learn a new skill.  From about 10p to midnight we worked on the crochet projects each evening.  As they quit hating the magic loop and embraced it.  While my coastal kids flew west, I sat and worked on a pattern for them. He'd found a Yoda cup coozie, simple pattern.  The creator wanted $18 for the pattern or $8 to purchase a pre-made one. I told him, I would create a pattern for them while they flew west.  I completed it, just before they landed. I still need to type up my notes, but they will be able to create it.

I'm unbelievably proud of my girl too.  I hate that she lives so close, yet life keeps us from doing more together.  I am going to work on that in the coming year.  When I left yesterday she was playing hostess to the entire paternal side of her youngest daughter's family.  The baby is only 2, she probably won't even remember what mom is dealing with for her happiness, yet she is doing it anyway. Because she is that kind and loving person.

Hubs and I are left dealing with the silence.  It's hard the first few days.  Soon we will fall back into our routines.  Although we are busy making plans for the coming year (s), setting goals and benchmarks that we want to meet in our personal life.  We're both good at following the goals assigned to make someone else successful, we are not always good at doing things that fill our personal buckets, that help us reach our personal goals. 

I won't speak for Hubs, but I am working on a clear path.  I am a visual person.  Yet, I often fail to focus on things that are important to me.  Having observed our children closely over the past few weeks.  I feel I have things to learn from them. They are both planners, I am too.  But they both write those plans down.  They both develop SMART goals to achieve them.  I develop SMART goals all the time, but they are for work related projects.  I feel like this last shift in the universe has seriously shifted my thought processes. 

Walking Neeko this morning, I normally would scroll through my phone, I didn't.  I was working on my dream book/planner that I got for Christmas from Hubs before I left working through the questions that help you develop your plans and goals. So instead of mindless surfing, I focused on being intentional while walking him.  On thinking and observing.  I took time to chat with the pup.  I doubt he understood the words, I know he understood the love and compassion.

This year of loss has been tough.  First our Snug, then my Gator... Neeko is our last remaining fur baby.  And we are always aware that he is now 15, the years are definitely catching up to him. Hubs and I are very aware that our time left with him is very limited.  We are cherishing it.  And at the same time bracing ourselves, while praying feverishly that the bridge is still a long time away.

As I sat in the silence this morning, thinking, processing, planning.  I felt a peace that I have been missing.  Maybe it is the very act of planning life out.  I love paths, plans, journey's that are thought out, all too often I fly by the seat of my pants because life has gotten too crazy and moving too fast.

I need the slowness of the past few weeks.  I need time to process and to feel, to savor the moments. 

Changes have slowly been occurring, plans have been being laid, I've been executing them in baby steps.  But just like that baby takes staggering steps and falls down a lot as they are growing, they also become that toddler.  They still fall, but they always get back up and they move faster and faster each time.  Those halting, uneven steps become a lopsided gallop, I feel I am at that gallop point.  I'm not ready to run, but I am definitely ready to gallop and skip...

I need to bring my personal life into focus.  It has to stop being the fuzzy outlines, out of focus and hovering.  It's time.  Sitting in the silence, as the world slowly awakens, I feel like I am awakening too, in a new and exciting space.

Guess it's time to buckle up for the journey ahead...