My house<\/a>\u2014long expired from its various lives as a bachelor pad or a newlywed love nest\u2014gives every indication that the rest of my family has been Raptured. The signs of their recent presence are everywhere, but the silence is deafening. I step on random crumbs when I walk through the dining room. The dishwasher is full of clean dishes. When I was moving the laundry from the washer to the dryer, something fell on the floor\u2014a raisin.<\/p>\nMy daughter\u2019s usual haunts\u2014her bedroom, the living room and the basement\u2014contain small chaotic piles of toys, books, Twistable colored pencils and zoo animal puzzle pieces. In the basement, where she regularly plays with a toy kitchen set and prepares fake food while I run on the treadmill, everything is as she left it after her last cooking session. I removed a toy mixing spoon from my gym shoes before completing a treadmill run without any toddler interruptions. I didn\u2019t have to tell anyone to bake something in the oven or put food on the plates or clean the plates in the fake sink. I just ran.<\/p>\n
After a few years of marriage and a couple years of fatherhood, being a bachelor again just can\u2019t compare. I like a little alone time as much as the next guy (guilt-free blogging!), but just a little. Theresa and Maddie each have a part of my heart now, and not seeing them for a week just feels\u2026strange. I have plenty to do to fill the time, but my brain keeps noticing the solitude and my heart keeps reminding me of how integral they are to my life.<\/p>\n
It\u2019s sad how easily I can take the blessing of their presence for granted sometimes when I get home from a stressful day at work or Maddie\u2019s cranky or I\u2019m tired and just want to relax on the couch. This strange retreat from our everyday existence is showing me what a treat that existence really is.<\/p>\n