Nanette Jo Cooke

Friday, May 12, 2006

Life at home

I don't know what I'd do without the kids here.

I picked them up at Gramma Josie's yesterday afternoon and got them home by about five. They played outside, running around barefoot like we used to do when we were kids. Madeline brought a friend over to play and Jake showed up too. They ran around the house and swarmed over the swingset like ants. I can hear them from my office, and if I stand up and press my forehead against the window, I can almost see them down there. I set out a tray of vegies and ranch dip, and microwaved a couple of corn dogs that I found in the freezer, and then I got to work.

Some people think that writing is not work. Maybe there are writers who just sit down and the words flow out and the money flows in, but that's not me. I put my head down and my fingers on the keys and I work hard. I sent out three article queries while the kids played. When I'm working like that, time passes differently. Suddenly, the chaos outside subsided. My head came up. I heard the kids in the kitchen chatting, getting along well. Back to work.

At about seven these two little urchins show up at the door to my office (actually, I don't have a door, just an empty door jamb, but we all pretend there is a door there.) They stood in the doorway, holding hands. Carter's feet looked almost black with dirt. Dust streaked Katie's cheeks.

"We have a surprise for you," Carter said.

"Shhh," Katie said. "Don't tell him."

A surprise usually means a big mess somewhere, but writing had been going well, so I was prepared for anything. Although they caught me right in the middle of crafting a query to a business magazine, I pushed away from the desk and left the computer. It doesn't mind how long I ignore it. The kids do.

I had to close my eyes (which made it tricky going down the narrow stairway with Carter holding one hand and Katie holding the other.) They led me to the living room.

"Okay," Katie said. "Open your eyes."

I had no idea what to expect. My kids are creative, energetic and crafty.

It took me a moment to understand.

Over in the corner, in front of the chair where I do my journal writing in the morning, they had dragged the coffee table and set it with a candle (unlit, thank God) and two decorative baskets left over from the Easter we never celebrated. In the middle of the table, Katie had set a beautiful red silk napkin with an oriental design, along with a tall-stemmed glass of water and a plate of carrots, snow peas, celerey and ranch dip. Carter had added a few Doritos. They sat me down and Katie stood by, ready to refill my glass if needed. Carter, being the boy that he is, climbed on my back while I ate my dinner.

This is life at home without JoAnn. We get on. We do our best to fill in. We play our own roles and do our best to add in the large part that is missing. My heart breaks for all those others who have lost a loved one. I can't imagine what it would be like to be a single parent. I guess you adjust, but you never completely recover.

For JoAnn, and for Nanette, and for Carter and sweet Katie, I thank you, oh God.

1 Comments:

  • At 7:42 PM, May 12, 2006, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Joe,
    Family can be a real strength. As my son Tim wrote in the poem, "You Were There",
    Through this time you'll be alright
    As God will be our guiding light.

    EP

     

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