An
Unexpected Gift
By
Laurie Larsen
Quitting time on Fridays comes a little bit earlier in my office than quitting time on any other day of the week. It was about 3:00 and I had come to the conclusion that I had done about all the work I could productively kick out today, and had called it quits. I logged off my computer and hit the “Send Calls” button on my phone. I stood up at my desk and was shuffling a few papers into my briefcase, when my office neighbor, Tom, stuck his head through my doorway on his way out.
“Have a good weekend,” he said with a smile. “We’re going boating tomorrow so I hope it’s a good one.”
“If you can survive the 100 degree heat, you’ll do fine,” I replied.
“What are your plans?”
I thought for a moment and memory dawned. Tomorrow morning, my husband and my two young sons were traveling to a town about an hour away, to watch their babysitter, Dale, play in his debut junior varsity football game. I told Tom about the plan, and added, “It’s a gift for me. A gift of about three hours of unexpected leisure time.”
“Hope you can find something to do,” he said sarcastically and waved as he headed out.
As I drove to the daycare center to pick up my youngest, I savored the anticipation of my little break from reality. Why was it that my pulse quickened when I thought about a few hours away from the responsibility of my children? I was planning my meager three hours alone with the zest that I would plan a Caribbean cruise! Further thoughts were put on hold when I arrived at the daycare, and my five year old son jumped into my arms for a hug, and I accompanied him on a quick verbal trip through his day.
The next morning, my boys left at 8 AM. Eagerly, I waved good-bye and blew kisses from the doorway. When the white minivan was out of sight, I turned and closed the door, drawing a huge breath into my lungs. I felt like I was at the horse races. And they’re off! My gift of time had begun! What would I do with it?
I made myself a cup of my favorite morning beverage, French Vanilla coffee. I didn’t want to be anally analytical about this, but I certainly didn’t want to fritter away my free time with activities that weren’t important to me. So, how would I spend my time?
First, of course, I would spend some time on my favorite leisure activity, working on my novel. My second book was off and running, and I was feeling a great sense of momentum with it. I was working on Chapter 15 and engaged in a particularly pleasurable piece of writing, a love scene.
So I veritably ran upstairs to my computer room and switched the machine on. I quickly read through the scenes I had written at my last sitting, revised where it was needed, and launched into Chapter 15. An hour later, my heart was pounding and a smile lingered on my face at that day’s piece of the imaginary world I’d created, and I turned off the computer with satisfaction.
What’s next? Ah, a luxury that I rarely took advantage of, but that was waiting for me right downstairs in our sunroom. I changed into my swimsuit and raced down the stairs. Our new hot tub.
I had been against its purchase, mainly because I knew I’d rarely make time for its use in my packed daily schedule, but at this moment I was glad that my husband had used his extensive persuasive skills, and convinced me to shell out the money. On the way in, I scooped up the latest book I was reading, a hilarious murder mystery by Jane Heller, and climbed in. Water swirled around me and jets of focused water beat against my tense muscles. Soon, I was putty and enjoyed the simple luxury of reading in the hot tub without any small feet pattering around me.
A little bit of relaxing in a hot tub goes a long way, and after 35 minutes, if I didn’t remove myself, I would have to retrieved by the EMTs when they arrived, responding to a call of a comatose woman. So I got out, dried off, then went upstairs for a shower.
Around this time, I glanced at my watch. It had been over two hours and I calculated that I had about a half hour of my gift of free time, remaining. What’s another favorite activity of mine? Ah yes, movies. I wouldn’t have time to watch one, but what a pleasure it would be to actually browse leisurely through a video store, reading the covers of all the latest releases, without having to worry about what Pokemon movie my children were fighting over, and whether some lunatic had escaped from prison, only to land at our neighborhood video store, intent on stealing the spawn of my loins while I was in a different aisle. I jumped in the car and headed to Family Video.
I browsed to my heart’s content, and settled on “The Talented Mr. Ripley,” a thriller that I never managed to see in the theater, but was still interested in. In the car on the way home, I noted that my three hours of leisure were over. Soon, I’d be sucked back into the world of being mom and wife, and that part of my life would take over. I mused over the past three hours and felt grateful that I’d had them. I had spent an entire morning, doing things that I enjoyed doing, just for the sake of doing them. Back to being Mom.
When I pushed the button on my remote control garage door opener, I was surprised that the white minivan was not there. Yippee! A little more free time. An added bonus to my unexpected gift of time! I pulled in the garage and went into the house.
What should I do now? I could start the movie, but my pet peeve was having to stop it in the middle and pick it up later. So I picked up my book, lounged on the couch and read a few chapters.
My
mind started to drift. The book was
as funny and engaging as ever, but I was having trouble concentrating.
Where were they? Oh,
I was sure they had stopped for McDonald’s on the way home.
No big deal. Enjoy this
time while you have it.
And yet . . . . They had to drive on a major highway to the game. What if they had gotten in an accident? What would I do if they never made it home?
I fretted and stewed for another half hour, and then I heard the welcome sound of the garage door opening, an announcement that they had arrived and would materialize in the house momentarily.
When the door opened and my two young, and one older boy bounded in, I was right there to meet them. The children were full of excitement and stories of their morning. I greeted them all with hugs and kisses and was completely serious when I said, “I missed you so much! I’m so glad you’re home.”
My husband embraced me quickly and gave me a peck on the lips. “Did you have a good morning?” he asked.
I nodded and told him what I’d accomplished.
“I know how much you love your free time,” he said, as he sat down at the dining room table, ready to be absorbed in his favorite leisure activity, working the crossword puzzle.
My
glance stayed on him and a reality hit me.
Yes, my free morning was an unexpected gift.
But the best gift in my life were the people who came through the door
after my gift of free time was over. My
family.