Wednesday, July 27, 2011

gravitational pull ~~~ ball/chain of security

Annie and the girls voyaged forth yesterday. They're driving to Philly, where Annie's doing a show w/ New Paradise Laboratories. She'll be there through early October. I'll be here. Kids are w/ her for a week; in Mass. w/ my folks (and me) for another week; back w/ Annie for a week, then back there late august. Then school starts.

I can only barely conceive of the hardships military families face during deployment. This is a brief sojourn, and all will be well. Logistical headaches will arise but nothing horrible. It's an awesome opportunity for Annie, and they say that a. it's always sunny out there, and b. the cheese steaks are killer.

So, we got up around 6 am to get them loaded and away. I was tired and doodled through the morning. The pre-departure mania hadn't been overly fraught (with tension, dissension, or whatnot) but it was a busy set of days.

Then, they were gone.
The house was empty.
My day was open.

Strange feeling. I did what I usually do, biked, shaved hairs, went to a movie, then went to dinner afterward.

What's odd is how much the duty/habit of family grounds me. W/ no one awaiting me, there's a sudden absence of place or weight or whatever it is: repetition of coming home and not-ditching family duties and obligations, when in respite, becomes a phantom-limb-like habit.

It'll take some getting used to the house being empty, my off-shift days relatively open. Not drinking, there's not a whole lot of getting wild I can now catch up on. Same w/ chasing ass. I'll enjoy the lessened responsibilities for a while, but I'll miss the kids more. We're fortunate to spend so much time together, to have such a great groove together, and it's never, ever a burder or sacrifice to come home to them.

Who are we when our points of identification shift? I don't have to get home to get the kids, or meet Annie, or anything. So, who am I, removed from my relative identitiy? Same old dope, but it's interesting to witness and feel the actual tension of non-responsibility. What keeps us moving? What keeps us grounded? What do we do to ourselves, out of habit, or out of safety?

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