It is Sunday night, and I have far too much to do to be sitting here. But I am aching, in at least a small way, to write. There's a considerable amount of snow on the ground. The wind is rattling the windows. There's more snow coming in about thirty hours. The cable is acting up and there is no sound. My husband sits behind me laughing at whatever he is watching. He is reading the dialogue; the television is set on fake mute. I love hearing him laugh. There's laundry to sort and did I mention the dishes in the sink? I miss my students, but tonight I do not necessarily miss my job. That wind could rattle forever. The snow could pile high and drift up over the windows; I wouldn't mind. I would sit here for a good portion of forever and listen to my husband's laugh and be quite content. The boy will be home from work a bit past midnight. That will settle me in behind the door and the window rattling wind even more. Slowly, very slowly, I realize this would not stay true for long. I had a student whose mother died the same date Chris did, but a year before. I saw him in the auditorium the other day. He leaned his head over the back of the chair towards me as I was walking by. He didn't say a word, but waited for me to notice and acknowledge him. I let my hand cover his forehead as if I was testing whether he had a fever, and while it lingered there, as he looked at me hanging upside down as it were, I said his name and asked him how his vacation was. Can I tell you how amazing this is? That a 19 year old African American young man would let me do this... would wait for me to do this.... It is amazing and it isn't lost on me that it is amazing. I guess I can't stay behind this door and out of that wind listening to this laughter for too much longer. He would still be there, then, hanging his head back and waiting for a greeting and a touch that would never come. When I went to the grocery store last week miniature daffodil plants were 3 for $10. Spring was for sale and I was buying. Photo to be added later. I have a school week to prepare for and a sink full of dishes to do.
