Isaac is away at an MBA conference for three nights. This post is not meant to be a plea for pity, just an observation.
When he is gone, my days do not change--any normal day I'm working or running errands and cleaning anyway. At dinnertime I prop up a book next to my plate and it substitutes adequately for conversation. Evenings take a little planning, but I entertain myself well when he's gone--a girl's night, a church potluck, an extra bowl of ice cream (shhhh).
But bedtime is different.
At first I think, "Going to bed will be so fast! No prayers, no talking after hours, no waiting for each other to floss."
But I'm wrong. Rather than go to bed early and take advantage of the simplified routine, I stay up late, avoiding bed. Somehow there is no reason to go to bed. Not alone. It is the one thing we always do together. So instead I pick up the kitchen one more time. Browse recipes online. Check my email over and over. Read blogs I've already read. Anything to put off crawling into that quiet bed and lying down next to an empty pillow.
Sleep is an inherently lonely activity. It's eight hours of just me and my subconscious. Yet it is the time I miss Isaac the most.