The Catholic Church has three seasons: Lent (before Easter), Advent (before Christmas) and Ordinary Time. Ordinary Time is the non-holiday part of the year.
Pedro is home, staying with me at the condo. His return home has not been Ordinary Time. In many ways, it feels normal to have him back in my life, around for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Yet, his transition back home and my return to motherhood feels like a holiday, a cause for celebration. I feel like the parents in the Prodigal Son, killing the metaphorical fatted calf upon his return.
"I feel like I am spoiling him. We are eating out all of the time and getting carry out," I told my friend Ellen whose daughter was "sent away" a few years ago.
"Of course you are," Ellen said. "That is perfectly normal." For a situation that isn't normal to start.
For once I am glad I am working from home. I get to see Pedro during the day and eat lunch with him. We chat between meetings.
So far, so good. I am enjoying his company. I like having him around. I am comfortable emotionally, not stressed or obsessing. The fact that I don't have a lot to say is a good thing.
In fact, it is wonderful.
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