Tuesday, January 13, 2009

On the outside

I wonder.

Does he approach the door on nights like this and, upon hearing the noise inside, pause with his hand on the knob?

Does he know how tired I am and, being tired too, want to turn and walk away?

Does he here their cries and want to help?  Or turn away?

Or is he like me - does he pause, take a deep breath and move inside?

On better nights does he quicken his step in anticipation of the meal I've cooked, the boys who will scream his name, and the fun we'll have?

Does he hear our giggles from the outside and long to be with us?

I wonder what I'd be like, if I were the one coming home.  How, after a long day with tall orders from the bosses and a depressing economy, I'd feel coming home to a sick wife, healing children, and an empty table.

From the outside would I pause at the knob, filled with mixed emotions about walking inside.  Knowing my day ended just for it to begin again.

Would I skip home eager to meet the faces that greet me - or would I turn and walk away?


Pedro said...

Surprisingly, or probably not, from personal experience, it's always nicer to be at home than it is at work. The approach is almost always the same, and any change in pace is made on the trip home (whether a drive, or walking distance). Dorothy had it right - There's No Place Like Home.

Walkers said...

I like to think Robert is very excited about coming home to his crazy family. There are probably days when he has walked in and we are not having a great day and there is no dinner, etc. Then he wishes he would have an excuse to stay a little later at work.