June 12, 2000 - Monday
Harry met us with his typical heartwarming smile when we picked him up this morning after our first night without him. It's the same smile we usually see when one of us comes home from work and is more of a "hey, I know you" kind of smile than one of great relief following hours of pining at our absence, but that's plenty. His aunt reports that he had a fine time at their house and was nothing but cheeriness and fun, showing no sign of the separation anxiety that could potentially kick in at any time as Harry starts to understand our leaving. Hopefully doing things like this, and sending him to daycare a couple of times each week, will preempt any major dose of apprehension or loneliness on his part.

I've been away on business travel before, so leaving Harry for a night is not new to me. It was, however, his mother's first night away and the first night that his mother and I have both been away and completely by ourselves. We've left him with sitters a couple of evenings to go to concerts, but in hindsight, those times have all been with other friends. What Harry's mother and I have not done is spend an evening, and in this case a morning too, revisiting something of the life that we knew before Harry's arrival.

And, are the changes significant? Not really and certainly not in any big-picture way. The love remains, as does the passion, the comfort and comfortableness, the happiness, and the friendship. Yet, there's a baby now who innocently, but persistently commands our attention, both jointly and individually. Many of our conversations now have a slightly more business-oriented tone, centering around the practicalities, realities, and logistics of Harry. Suppressed by that attention are not any necessarily profound emotions or deeply meaningful moments no longer shared, but rather details of a life that focuses on one other person more than one plus a baby.

For our night alone, we didn't necessarily eat at the best restaurant or go dancing at the hottest club, but we did walk down the street together, falling into the old familiar synchronous patterns of hands and feet moving together. We did banter about whimsical observations over a pint of beer. We did find humor in the same corners of our surroundings. We did converse at our table with the exclusive understanding of mutual past experiences that would have occasionally left an eavesdropper confused. And, we sometimes sat in a comfortable silence that demanded nothing but the passing of time in the presence of the person each knows better than any other person. Last night wasn't a major reboot of our relationship, nor a rediscovery of youth, it didn't need to be. What we needed was for the two of us to be the one couple that we always have been, with just a little bit more in focus.


Comments, opinions?