On The Other Foot

This may seem more melancholy than I intend it to be, but I'm really only trying to be observational. 

Watching the Ohio Cosgriffs drive off home yesterday morning, Christmas being over, I found myself reflecting on little things in life which had never quite occurred to me before. I was thinking of how me Grandpaw and Grandmaw Hutchins may have felt in years gone by as we would leave their home in North Carolina after our annual summer visit. Or even, perhaps, how me parents and grandparents up here felt when my family would make our exit after spending time at their homes.

With more extended stays it's as if you just get into the new routine and it's over. Several times yesterday after the family left I found myself expecting one of the dogs to be staring at me as I opened the door into the dining room, or to see my son or daughter-in-law or granddaughter sitting on the couch as I entered the living room. I expected those things so much that it took a second or so for me to re-orient when nobody was there. 

I believe I would rather be the one leaving than the one staying. The ones moving on are naturally occupied with that: the drive back home, returning to work, anticipating the usual day in and day out life. While I certainly had my routine coming back at me, there was still a rather marked change for me as all I had was that routine returning. There wasn't the relative distraction of a four hour drive home. There wasn't so much as a walk down the block to occupy me. I just went back into the house and locked the door as I closed it, changed into work clothes, and got back to normal. Poof. In the bat of an eye, nothing was different than it had been last Thursday. But it felt radically different, at least for the first few hours.

I suppose it does offer me a better sense of what my elders felt way back when. I don't really like it, but it is what is, eh?