As I watch my family drive off without me

By Kyle LB Morey

My body slowly comes awake.  Denielle, my immortal companion, is having a mortal moment taking care of mortal needs.  Her body is washed, her hair brushed, her teeth cleaned.  She enters the room.

“Oh, good morning,” she says with a brief smile.

I am going to miss her.  She prepares a few minor remaining things for her trip to Wisconsin where she and four of our five children will begin our long-awaited worldschool adventure by sitting our first house found on housecarers.com.  I simply watch and admire her movements.

My own legs begin to move.  I want to be downstairs in time to see the kids come down, hug them and wish them bon voyage. I am asked to retrieve our sleeping Lydia from her snug bed on the floor.  I cuddle with her on the couch, stroke her hair and whisper in her ear, “I will miss you. Can’t wait to see you in Nebraska!”

“In our new home?” she asks.

“Yes. And no.” I reply.  It is difficult to explain to a three-year-old that we no longer own a home.  We now sit others’ homes—with our first one in Wisconsin— and our next one, where I will meet up with them, in Nebraska.  She seems content with what I say.

“Will you miss me?” I ask Neil, who walks by and reaches down to pat Lydia.

“I don’t know,” he says. I fake a minor blow up. He again says he is not sure if he will have time to miss me or if he will be too busy doing whatever it is in his mind he sees himself doing on a worldschooling, house-sitting, book-touring, and community-serving adventure.

Clifford says, “I will miss you, Dad.” He tackles me with a hug.

Denielle and I share a kiss. It lasts but a moment. I detect from her lips a longing that will last a lifetime—a longing that is fueled by a three-week separation, but only a mere moment to immortals.  For that is what we are.  Immortals having a mortal moment here on earth.  I watch her back the packed minivan out of the driveway and . . . drive away.  This is one mortal moment that stings.

Day one of our new adventures in worldschooling: here we go (correction: here they go without me while I prepare to close on our house and finish up my duties at work)!  That’s another story.  No, that’s Morey!

Photo by Kaelyn D. Morey