I got to stop in my house for a few minutes today. Jay came home yesterday with a few early (but slightly odd combination of) symptoms of an illness. This morning he wasn't feeling much better, and he and Janet stayed at home. I had to be in Cleveland, so I decided to stop by and check on him and Janet. Jay's fine, but I think he may have a little bug running around inside. Hopefully he can fight it off without really getting sick first.
But in those brief few minutes of playing doctor-on-house-call, the absolute comfort that I felt from being inside my own house was indescribable. It's where I want to be, not here where I am now. My friend has taken me in, opened his home to me for whatever length of time I need. A chair, a TV, a bed, a kitchen, and a shower - essentials - are all appreciated. But they're not home, where I can watch Jay do his thing, laugh at the dog, harrass the cats. I'm not where I can see Janet each day. I'm not where I can completely unwind, not where I can explore creativity in the kitchen, or just sit and soak it all in.
My friend's work has him away for the next few weeks, only passing through on the weekends. Usually he has his two children for the weekend. They're a delight to watch, but they're not mine. The youngest has become very flirty with me for some reason, and she's a hoot. Just a fun, innocent little kid. But what I also see in my friend is a guy who wishes he could have more time with them. We're very close friends, but I don't want to be in his place, wishing I had more time with two people who are very important to me.
My life is hectic enough without this extra. I've got a lot of time on the road ahead of me in the next couple of weeks. Oxford for a day, Jackson for a day, then a 3-day conference in Philadelphia. Later this month, 4 days out on training. I wish I could know that after those road-weary days end, that I'd be able to find no place like home.
jw
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