The Last Day of School

I have one hour left. After spending my first year in 14 years of motherhood having my children in school all day, the remaining minutes of solitude are upon me.

It's been different than I expected. I had grandiose plans to fill my days writing music, finishing my book, reading and practicing yoga. I imagined lunches with friends, carefree shopping trips and meeting my husband on his break. There was some of each of those things, but I found that the ordinary tasks of life still remained despite my children's physical absence during the day. Laundry still needed to be washed and folded, dishes cleaned up, dog walked, floor swept and groceries purchased. Much of the mundane remained and crowded out time for more fantastic pursuits.

But I made a discovery. There is a quiet calmness that can be found in the ordinariness of daily living. It was a bit unsettling at first to have so much time to myself, time to think my own thoughts and be with myself hours upon end. But I have grown to like my own company. Most days I fill with silence, choosing to refrain from music or television accompaniment. I have found a sweet freedom in being present with my thoughts, uninterrupted, with my hands and body busy maintaining order in my home. Not since I was a young, single student in college have I had so much time in my own mind to consider.

As the last, precious quiet moments tick away, I pause. Knowing the upcoming weeks will be filled with friends and sun, swimming pools and camps, travel and chaos, I relish the gift of the present. I try to embrace the stillness, hold it deeply in my heart and remember the secret I have learned during this year. No matter what happens around me, there is a quiet place inside. The simple motions of folding, washing, sweeping and weeding can all invite me to return to the place I have visited so often these past months. The place of peace.

I am hopeful that when the bus doors open for the last time, I can invite my children to visit that gentle garden with me, helping them embrace a slower pace of living. As we work together, we can find the rhythm of reflection in the simple tasks of life.

Welcome home boys, so happy to be with you my daughter, let me tell you a secret. Here, can you help me wash this dish?