The First Reminder

There have been hundreds of times, more so in recent years, where it has just been a few of us at home for a given night. We are definitely the family who averaged, when we grew up, 5-6 dinners together in a week. Sure each of us had a span where we were involved in things that kept us out a night or two during the week. As the years have continued and we have each become more independent, have our own schedules, and jobs - dinners at home are more infrequent. Sunday nights are spent figuring out which day or two we might all be home.

To be eating home tonight with just my parents was not completely out of the ordinary. Yet, with the wedding on the horizon, tonight's meal was a clear reminder of how every day life is about to be. Dinner just felt empty. There have been plenty of nights where I have eaten alone for dinner, or just with one other person, and yet tonight felt different. Tonight, the feeling of finality started to set in. On all of those other nights, there was nothing permanent about the decline in attendance to dinner. It sometimes was fun, a change of pace that meant we might have breakfast for dinner or try something different. Instead, there was a clear void present at dinner tonight and it was there for everyone. Even before and after dinner, the house just felt quieter. I keep telling people that to some extent it won't be much different because of how infrequently we are all home already. Maybe tonight I realized that, at least a little bit, I might be fooling myself.

(this is a picture from my sister's new house. I went over with her today to help her arrange some more things, set some more stuff up, and clean up from the big move this past Saturday. Her place is pretty great. I hope I make good on my promise to myself that I will visit them and not be lazy about that.)