Missing and No Action

When did the "to do list" become yesterday's leftovers.  I have been crossing items off of my list for days.  Literally, I do something and cross it off the list.  Yet, nothing is done.  There is no task completed.  Two weeks have passed since I sent two of my boys to Puerto Rico with family.  Usually, I'd be doing cartwheels and dancing semi-naked in my living room.  Actual naked dancing is reserved for special occasions and bribery.  Yet, this time, the ones that remain did so out of necessity.  One had surgery.  There is no dancing for surgery.  The other is still weaning, or so I tell myself.  Now, missing two and concerned for another, and being chewed to pieces by the last, that is where I am.  I am a worrying chew toy who feels incomplete in a house that is too quiet for comfort.  Who knew that the six year old could play by himself so well and so silently, without getting into trouble.  

So here I am.  I am unfocused and foggy.  Work has become a chore and hobbies just more things unable to be completed.  The joy I derived from my poems have been tainted by the past and thus avoided for a few days.  I sit here, guilty, and a little sad, and seemingly lost in the big picture.  Though, when I call my boys and hear the shrieks of the latest tantrum in the background, I do feel better and thankful for the quiet that surrounds me for now.