On Saturdays I Weep
Saturdays have become so difficult for me. Maybe it's the slow start, the silence, the stillness of the house that allows my thoughts to consume me. Every Saturday since I've been back in my normal routine, I have experienced such great sadness. I'm not boarding a plane, or picking up a rental, driving down 37 South and pulling into your driveway like I used to when I was in college, kicking up sand because I drove in too fast. "One of these days you're going to hit one of those poles." I would laugh and say, "No I'm not mom." I never did hit one of the poles, not physically anyway. But metaphorically, I hit one every Saturday morning. It takes me most of the day to come out of it. Today, I actually thought cleaning the bathrooms would be a good idea. Who the hell thinks that? But then my mind fills with memories of our house on Glen Garden and how we used to clean on Saturday mornings and then to recent times when cleaning the bathro