The Missing Piece

My son came home this week for the American Thanksgiving holiday, which explains my lack of blog posts.  It has been a joyous week with him back in the house.  When he is gone we all feel like something is missing, as if our family is incomplete.  Each of us misses him in our own way.  My daughter misses her brother in the evening; a time when they watch t.v. together and catch up on small talk and the kind of private conversations that siblings have.  My husband misses his son on the weekends when they discuss golf stats, upcoming tournaments; pretty much anything that involves golf.  There is definitely a void in Sunday's ritual of watching the Golf channel as his dad sits alone with no one to listen to his comments.  I can feel his emptiness.  Even the dog often sits outside his door as if waiting for his return.

I miss my son in my own way.  I miss making his favourite meals.  He is wonderful to cook for because he eats anything I make and always compliments me on my efforts.  I miss his good morning hugs, his good night kisses and his "I love you's" as he is leaving the house.  He is kind and considerate and never gives me cause to worry about him.  He is old enough to do as he pleases, and yet, he always lets me know his where abouts and when he can be expected to return.  He takes the time to sit and chat, and humours me when I bring up topics that don't interest him.  He never challenges me when I ask him to run an errand, and he offers to help in any way possible.  He is always true to his word.

We don't talk about how much we miss him when he is gone because we don't want to bring attention to something that makes us sad.  But each of us can feel the quiet in the house and the missing piece to our family's puzzle.  Tonight while the turkey roasted in the oven, the squash and apple baked, and the sweet aroma of rosemary and thyme filled the room he came in the kitchen and pulled me away from making the mashed potatoes.  He began to dance to a Michael Jackson song that my daughter put on and I followed his lead embracing his spontaneity.  My daughter joined in and we danced around the kitchen island to "Thriller" and "Billie Jean" as my husband and our parents watched in wonder.  Alas, Simon was home!!  If only for a few days, the family came together because of him.  What a great gift, this son of mine.