Saturday Afternoon

For about 15 (maybe 20) minutes I laid on my couch today.

Just laid there.

Laid there and listened to the sound of the traffic on Franklin Avenue. A steady flow. Just moving along.

And brittle, dry leaves blowing around in circles outside on the cement. That sound. The scratching, whooshing sound.

Every once in a while I could hear branches moving and a little breeze.

I just laid there.

After a few minutes my body started to relax.

I remembered the feeling of Saturday afternoons in San Francisco. Saturday afternoons after I'd run several miles that morning, showered, eaten and done homework. Saturday afternoons when I'd often lay down to read a book - usually for class - sometimes not.

Saturday afternoons when I'd often have plans for the evening.

When the afternoon was just another part of the day.

When a quiet Saturday afternoon was typical. A natural part of my week.

I missed those days.

Deeply.

I longed for that.

The quiet. The consistent nature of my old schedule. My schedule.

I reminded myself that someday I'll have that again. Someday the kids won't need me every moment. Someday they might not even be around. And after that they'll move away. They won't even be around on Saturday afternoons.

I told myself that I'm just on sabattical from those sweet every-Saturday Saturday afternoons. That I've just taken these years off from that life.

That I assume there will be years when Saturdays might even feel busier than they do now. We'll be at sports events or school events or who knows what else.

Then the quiet will come back.

The quiet. Predictable Saturday afternoons.

They will.

And until then I'll steal as many moments as I can.

Lying there.

Listening.