Looking out Different Windows

Pictures my husband sends to me . . .



Today my husband is in the Hilton Hotel in Palm Springs.  I am not.  He sends me pictures of the things he sees, and I open them when I read my email, then I close them and get on with my day.  I do not send him pictures of the squirrel I saw outside my window as I was drinking coffee and reading John Holt this morning.

I can't send him pictures of the warm, calm peacefulness in my heart.  So I let him think that he has the better view.  Why not?  It makes him happy.  But I know better.

This morning I am trying to decide whether to clean the house or just enjoy the day with my children.  I think I shall do both-- because a clean house makes me happy-- and then I can spend time being with the boys in a comfortable, inviting environment.  If we get really adventurous, we may drive to the library across the county which is open on Sundays. 

Although it goes against what society tells us, being home with my family and taking care of their needs (including laundry and food and a clean floor) bring me much more joy than a fancy vacation.  I didn't always realize this.  There was a time when resentment would have crept in and I would have felt entitled to some sort of consolation prize for taking care of the homefront while John was away and sending me pictures of beautiful views.  Not anymore.

When I experienced a cancer diagnosis a few years ago, some beautiful things happened.  The best thing was a reorganization of priorities.  When I imagined myself absent from my family's life, I realized that I didn't want anyone else to be picking up the dirty socks.  I didn't want anyone else to be vacuuming the floor or walking the dog or staying up all night with a sick child.  This was my work and as ridiculous as it sounds, I love my work.

So whatever you are doing today and wherever you are, I can wish you nothing better than this: I hope you derive as much satisfaction from your day as I will from mine.