The small window in my office

The house is quiet.  Everyone has left for school or work, and Brooklyn and I are left here in silence.  I love mornings like this, when you can get lost in your thoughts and work through any problem in your life simply because the house is quiet enough to think.

Off in the distance I can hear the low roar of thunder, somewhere over lake Erie there is lightning hitting the water causing small explosions, and I hear the aftermath of that here in my little office on this quiet Tuesday morning.  Sometimes I can hear the cracks, like fireworks exploding somewhere off from view, I can hear the clatter of the deep grey coloured clouds that surround us like a blanket.  Mostly, I hear the rumble off in the distance. 

Some might think this sort of day is a bit too gloomy for them, but I welcome it.  It has been so dreadfully hot here for the last week or so, I welcome this cloud covered morning.  There is a nice wind coming in off the lake, I could see the whitecaps this morning when I took Zeb to the bus stop.  There is a storm brewing out there on the lake, but not here, here we have the dark morning, with the breeze and the cooler temperatures and I am happy to receive them through my small office window.

We spend a couple of days this weekend with my mother.  She has changed since my father passed.  The conversation, no matter what it is about surrounds her, and only her, I am not sure she even hears the things that are being said to her.  This has always been a bit of her way all along, but it has gotten so bad that we are learning to not really talk, just let her go on and on like someone is reading from the phone book.

The rain has arrived, it is coming down rather hard, we need rain but not this hard.  The thunder is a little louder now, just ever so slightly, the rain slows to a shower, to a sprinkle.  I watch bubbles form on the road beside my small window in my office.  The bubbles float slowly down the small stream created by the rain, until it reaches the grass edge where it bursts and disappears.  The birds are loving the rain, I hear them singing through the small window in my office.  The wind has become soft, just gracing the leaves ever so slightly.

She talks about herself like there is no one, or thing in the world worthy enough to talk about.   She tells the story of her ending a friendship recently because "that woman is so selfish I couldn't take it any longer, I had to tell her to leave me alone".  That woman has been a friend since grade school, she sat for three days by my mothers side when my father had his first heart attack in 1985, the day before my final math exam in grade 11.  She sat there and held my mother's hand, assuring her that she was not alone, that she was going to help her through this, and that my father would be okay.  Having her there meant I could go take my math exam, it meant that I didn't have to be the adult, I didn't have to worry.  "That woman is so selfish, I couldn't take it any longer, I had to tell her to leave me alone."  She is proud of herself for stomping out that user from her life.  Now she has opened up more time in her life to spend money, endlessly, mindlessly, continuously.    I pray there is enough to last till her final days, but I know there won't be.  I know that one day she will run out of money and move in with one of her children.  But today, there is money to spend and gosh darnit, she will spend it!

I love these quiet mornings.  The heat has taken a hike for now, and I am enjoying the cool breeze coming through the small window in my office.