Has it happened to you? I can assure you it is not pretty - especially when the Buddhist is your own fourteen year old son. This child who needed to lie on my body for the first three years of his life and lies on me still though he has passed me in height, is the most compassionate and patient and indiscriminately loving person I know. But he threw down the gauntlet this weekend (is that really only a glove? If I was going to throw down a gauntlet, I'd like it to be something that made noise when it hit the floor).
You are not home enough mom!, he insisted, tears in his eyes and everything.
Hey, no fair, is what I was thinking. Come to the coffee shop with me, is what I said.
So he and I and my nineteen year old daughter (who apparently also thought hanging out with Mom for a while might be a decent way to pass the time) headed out to the coffee shop and spent the middle of the day reading and typing (we took turns on my computer) and chatting about things like how anyone could possibly love a hairless cat.
At one point, a 30ish mother and her three young children sat near us. All four were clearly enjoying each other's company. Past days came rushing back, days when toddler hands searched for my legs and face, when eight and ten year olds ran up the stairs to tell me how their day was at school. And I thought how lucky I am that my children still want to sit at a table with me even if all we do is read our separate books and occasionally wonder how Victoria Beckham can walk in those shoes.
No writing got done, of course. There's always today for that.
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