"Where we love is home,
Home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts."
~Oliver Wendell Holmes
I'm really excited. Jacob is coming home for the weekend. I know it has only been a week and a half since I've seen him but it feels like a long time. In spite of my request that he call home at least once a week, I have yet to get a call. I've had a few one line e-mails and a picture of his partially shaved head but no information about what he's been doing, who he has met, how classes are going or what in the world possessed him to shave his head into a quasi-Mohawk which initially was spiked and coloured blue. Merv doesn't want me to press Jacob for more communication but I plan to have a conversation with him nonetheless. If Jacob wants a more adult relationship with me, then I want him to understand that he has to take some responsibility for creating and maintaining the relationship. I think my request for a weekly phone call is reasonable.
He is actually coming home this weekend because it is Rosh Hashanah and as in years past, Jacob has been invited to join his friend Robbie for Rosh Hashanah dinner on Saturday. Merv is leaving Saturday morning for a six day business trip so on Saturday night I will be alone. I suspect that will feel pretty odd. I haven't spent a Saturday night alone in longer than I can remember. At least Jacob will be home to sleep and if I'm lucky, he will stay up late with me to watch TV.
I took a trip to my favourite bead store today so I've laid in a new supply of pearls, sterling and volcanic stones - enough to keep my hands busy and my mind occupied while I wait for the homecoming of my son.
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