Travel Day
Normally, when I visit my son no one is up when I get up. So, it’s quiet and I write in silence. This morning everyone is up. The dog has gone out to do it’s business twice. Coffee is being brewed. Conversations are flowing and I’m having a devil of a time concentrating. That’s okay. In my early days I wrote in the newsroom of the Houston Chronicle and the desks were about two feet apart and there was a level of noise that was unbelievable.
I suppose I could have stayed up in my room and written in silence but sitting in bed with a computer in your lap can be cludgy and uncomfortable, so I came down to the kitchen table. I used to type at the dining room table which had the advantage of being out of the traffic flow, but it’s gone to my daughter’s house. It was a hand me down from my mother-in-law that my daughter-in-law never really enjoyed because she wanted her own table. Now my daughter has it and maw-maw’s table is safe.
The weird thing is that neither my son nor my daughter-in-law seem to be aware I’m sitting here writing. I suppose they think I’m simply noodling on my computer, maybe playing Wordle (I am), or shopping on Amazon (I’m not). But it’s their house and it’s probably not fair to ask them to change their morning routine so I can knock out 300 words for no particular reason other than my own vanity. And now I’m almost done as they settle down with their coffee, and in a bit we’ll head out to UH to watch the grand daughter compete in her first collegiate track meet. And that’s it for now.
John W. Wilson is the author of The Long Goodbye: A Caregiver's Tale