Today my Facebook feed brought me the images of a family of four, skiing. Old friends of mine. Friends I rarely see since the divorce.
I’m sitting in an airport. Alone.
They crammed their smiling faces, partially hidden by goggles and fuzzy hats, into the camera for a group selfie. White powder glinted behind them.
I’m stretched out on a black arm chair, compliments of Southwest Airlines. My phone is charging, and a cup of Starbucks awaits. Behind me is a family chatting animatedly in Spanish–how I’ve missed the melodic ups and downs of this language. I have the freedom to write what I want, read what I want, and listen to what I want. This is a freedom that comes rarely, being a single mother to two boys under five.
I should relish it. And I do.
But I’m not skiing. I don’t have a full family unit. I couldn’t handle both my kids on a slope. It’s taken me a month just to finagle a solution for taking Big Bro ice skating. But I found one.
So maybe some day I will be able to take them skiing.
For now I will try to enjoy my own company, and wait patiently for a day when I’m able to do more.
For now I will delete Facebook.