Waving Goodbye

Waving goodbye to over-night guests can be an empty feeling -- especially when the people I'm waving to, don't see me wave. (Which thankfully doesn't happen very often!).

I start off waving and smiling while they're getting situated in their car ... adjusting the mirror, turning on the heater, handing a map to someone in the back seat and answering their cell phone. My right arm gets tired from waving so quickly, so I switch to my left. Then back to my right. For a moment, I want to stop, but then worry if I do stop, that will be the moment they looked up and would have never known I was waving to them. So I must continue to wave. Wave with both hands. Jump up and down. Smile as animated as I can. Wave until they are out of site. Hope they saw me in their rear-view mirror still waving. (And feel a bit self-conscious, wondering if any of the neighbors were watching all this from their front windows).

And, as empty of a feeling that is. My house feels even more empty when they have left.

There's this roar of quietness that seems to permeate everything ... and is deafening to my ears ... and to my soul. I wander around in a fog. I see the empty breakfast dishes still on the table and I leave it there. I'm not ready to clean up. I want the memory to hang on just a bit more. I touch the seat of one of the chairs and it is still warm from their presence. I am lost for awhile. Just roam from room to room waiting for the fog to lift ... and it always does.