This is my favorite time of the morning, when the sun moves beyond the mountain’s shadow, usually an hour after the valley sees the sun.
I take pictures of the house because I am thankful for it. We look at magazines or Instagram for inspiration for beautiful spaces, but they are usually photographs of rooms without people. Why does this please us? Rebecca Solnit wrote about this, and came to the conclusion that we dream of possibilities when we see a clean, clear room. But what about when the empty room also reminds us of times lost? I have a beautiful, empty kitchen and I wonder how I came to this so quickly, when life was so full before. There were four children with very different needs and interests to keep up with. Homeschool filled my life. There were projects at the kitchen table, art supplies everywhere, books on every surface, and piano music throughout the day. We sang together and we went places. Now it is just the crumbs of connection after long days of school and homework. I am not saying I believe we can or should go back to what we had. It’s just that today, I ache for what was. We have entered a bristly phase at home, and lately I can’t say the right thing. Stillness will be my lot for a while, whether I am alone or not. But the home is beautiful and comfortable for us when we can be together. We have conformed. We have conformed to much. We have also grown and achieved more than these walls can contain. An empty kitchen is just one evidence of the progress of our children to independence. I will learn to bear it.