Navigating the In Between

I woke today relatively healthy, in a home that has heat and a dependable roof, with a ridiculously devoted dog and a surprisingly dedicated husband at my side.  So why the feeling of longing? 

I blame it on the in between, that odd time when absence and presence duke it out in the larger world.   Maybe that explains all the odd things I've seen on my early-morning walks of late. . .

. . . a possum triggering my neighbor’s safety lights, and then standing frozen in fear of its own unknown powers.

. . . the  last crickets of summer humming one more line of their gregorian chant, the tune quieter and sadder than their October number.

. . .the sun and moon battling over the early morning sky, while Orion fades silently into the background.

. . .the first fingers of a season yet to come, holding hands with the last warm wisps of summer.

. . . my own thoughts, fretting over elderly parents and children, all in the same chilled breath.

. . . four days, three owls.  One shooting baskets, another standing watch over our patio, and a third bellowing its mighty song to me just outside of Northeast High School last night. 

I know now that I am, indeed, among the fence walkers, those who are sandwiched between aging parents and muscle-flexing children, financial freedom and pre-planned funerals.  It is an odd place, to be sure, and not for the faint of heart.  

But this is where I am these days, in the in-between.  And I do my best to make my peace with all the conflicting messages, missing my children and celebrating my new-found freedom in the same, strange breath that I selfishly hope will go on and on for a very long time.