By the end of a day of substitute teaching, I'm grateful to see my husband's truck parked at the curb. I'm grateful to see his face, his smile, and hear his voice. I'm grateful to sink so soon into my resting place -- which is always alongside him. Even at night, if I'm having trouble sleeping, I just have to reach over and touch him, and I fall back to sleep.
"Your relaxation starts now," he said as he put the truck into gear.
It was lovely to drive home with the vibrant fall colours not yet stripped off the trees by wind, and feel cocooned inside the truck as we headed home for post-subbing sustenance of tea and toast. Dwayne went off to nap and after a second cup of green tea, I slipped upstairs to my office, where it is quiet and cozy on this (lovely) grey and rainy day.
"You're supposed to be relaxing," he scolded from my doorway at four thirty.
"This is relaxing," I said as I nodded towards the cookbook proposal I was tweaking. Oh, yes, after a day of noise and crowd control, hugs and action songs (filling in for the music teacher again), sitting in stillness, hearing nothing but the tapping of my fingers on the keyboard, THAT is my relaxation.
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