The Boys all went home Saturday. It’s so quiet now. I have laundry to catch up on, but we did a lot better this year keeping up with the clutter, so I don’t have any more than I would have if they hadn’t been here.
It’s always amazing how quickly we fall into our old roles. We see each other one week a year, on average. Some have come for Thanksgiving, and some only come every three or four years. It doesn’t seem to matter how long it’s been since the last visit. Within hours we’re acting as if we all live in the same neighborhood and see each other every day. We tell the same jokes, sometimes much to my chagrin! Eric tried to get them to move out here again and even did an online job search for one of them! Yes, he does that every year. It occurred to me the other night that Eric and I have been the patriarch and matriarch of this group for nearly 15 years. Who becomes a matriarch in her early 30’s?! Yeah, that would be me. Of course, back then they didn’t call me that; they called me the Mother Hen From Hell. 🙂 My life with them has been a little like Wendy from Peter Pan; I’m the mother figure for the Lost Boys, but mine aren’t really lost. They all have families, and some of them see their families every day. I became the mom when they were far from home in a place most of them didn’t want to be. Now they come back every year.
I’ll close with something I heard at the ren faire we went to last month. There are ships upon the ocean, and ships upon the sea, but the best ships are friendships, and long may they be.