So, it’s Easter.
And as often happens on long, celebratory weekends, family members are travelling to meet family members who are staying home expectantly waiting for them.
My partner’s family has arrived. This is new for me, and yet … not.
I am a veteran of the holiday weekend
My marriage lasted twenty-seven years. It ended when my wife passed away. For much of that time, members of her very large family would come and go for holiday weekends.
I would cook. They would also cook. It was busy. Hectic. Perfect.
It was holidays
So now I’m at the same place again, on a smaller scale. I’m in a smaller kitchen. She has a smaller family.
But so many things are the same. The food, the chatter, the reuniting of a family in a friendly and welcoming space.
And … the zone!
There are a thousand things to do, and for the last two days I’ve been focused on those thousand things. I’ve been catching balls as they start to fall and throwing others in the air at just the right time. I’m in the zone.
And now, though it is later than I usually do this, I am writing my post for today. The house is clean, those who cook veggies are in the kitchen doing that, the turkey arrived, pre-brined and I have stuffed it and shoved it in the oven where it is turking away on schedule.
And how do I feel?
I feel great. I’ve been busy, focused, on the ball. As I said, I’m in the zone.
And since today is a holiday, I am going to cut this short and rejoin the group of people in my house and participate in the holiday activities.
And what is the word that describes me in the zone?
You guessed it. Scurry. I’m in a hurry, scampering around, getting things done, scurrying.
And now, I’m scurrying back to Easter.