A Bigger Cave

At about 4:15 this morning, I woke up and went around the house turning off lights that various boys had left on, got back into bed and proceeded to not sleep. Then a light went back on, so upstairs I went, only to discover that Alex was still awake. (That would be Alex with a dentist appointment at noon today.) So, after a semi-pointless conversation entitled "How am I going to wake you long-distance from work so I can meet you at the dentist if you're not asleep yet?", I went back downstairs and continued to not sleep some more.

When you can't sleep, you know the one thing you CAN do? Think. And unless you're making a to-do list (bathing suit, sunscreen, beach towel, trashy novel,) thinking at that hour is just not productive. And the longer I didn't sleep, the harder it got not to succumb to some real tears. So I did.

The timing's no accident, I think. We are so close to Memorial Day weekend, so close to June 1, which brings us inexorably and with awful speed, to June 28 and beyond into some increasingly uncertain medical future. And a consistent, structured part of my support system will be missing, what with religious school done for the year. (Yep, another year over and just our annual "Whine and Dine" next week to get it all out of our systems; lots of hugging and kissing and "see you in September.")

Plus the rabbi is going on a very, very well-deserved three-month sabbatical, which is, and I repeat, well-deserved and necessary. But a variable that keeps more than one equation balanced around here is going to be missing. (I hope the math metaphor was right - it's the only thing I understand when Gael comes to work with Ari on algebra!)

During my mother's last illness, I learned that her sitting in a chair in the house for long periods of time was sometimes referred to as "cave time." It's something we all get to have, once in a while, and I was determined not to abuse the privilege. (Because, let's face it, if you take some "cave time" everyone else has to kind of tiptoe around you and feel like they can't do anything to help. After all, a cave is a cave; it's not an excuse for a party unless it's referring to the many cave-like dorm rooms I've seen over the years.)

I figured out that my cave is just a little bigger than most people's, in that it expands from my house, kind of like a (warning: Star Trek/Gate/Wars fan here) force field, into the synagogue, our friends' houses, the chiropractor's office, Staples...........well, you get the idea. It's a pretty spacious cave.

Aside from the difference in dimensions, it also means that I encounter a lot more people in my cave, and I'm grateful for the interaction, most of the time. So, to all of you who inadvertently participate in my cave time, thank you for your patience.

And to all of you whose events I haven't attended, or whose phone calls or emails I haven't returned immediately, thank you for understanding that sometimes this virtual cave is really small, and that I'm just coping.