I woke up this morning feeling better than I have in over a week. Sawyer stopped coughing. Sophia isn't coughing at night anymore and Carver is back to his old self, looking at me sideways most of the time and raising his eyebrows. Terry, however, woke up feeling our colds, feeling our congestion, feeling sick and I stared at him sideways and rose my eyebrows. And then for a split second, I contemplated taking the car and driving south. South to the ocean, to the warmth, to the beach, to the palm trees.
I longed to smell the salt in the air, the sand on my skin, the way it gets stuck between my toes, the grittiness of it all.
Instead, I trudged to church with Sophia, I picked up a 50 pound bag of dog food, I trudged home and I fell asleep for two luxurious hours with Sawyer as the laundry somehow piled higher, the kitchen sink filled with more dishes, and the toys continued to get strewn all over the floor.
Terry remained sick, I continued to look sideways and now at 12:40 a.m. with the laundry still unfolded and the dishes still unwashed, I am calling it a day. I am going to sleep to dream dreams, to feel the ocean air and listen to the lapping of the waves on the sand.