Tonight I walked home from work. This was Pride Weekend so crossing Market Street or going anywhere near the Castro in a car was just unthinkable. Pre-Ada I used to do this every day in the summer. It stays light forever and the mission and Castro are lively. These days I drive with the hopes that I'll make it home before she's in bed.
Pride weekend was winding down and girls were hailing cabs in their short shorts and men were walking arm-in-arm flirting shamelessly. There were people making out in doorways. And there were people crying in doorways. I kept my headphones on and my step brisk so that I could get home to Ada. I saw a stroller and my heart beat a little faster - until I got closer and realized that some homeless guy chose that over a shopping cart to carry all his stuff. It made me miss my baby more.
I took the slightly shorter route home even though it was steeper. When I came through the door the house was empty. Tim and Ada weren't back from the Lucas's yet. The windows were open and the strong wind was blowing in off the Pacific ocean rattling the screens and chilling the house. It was quiet - too quiet. It was lonely. I can count on one hand the number of times I've walked alone into an empty house since Ada was born. The clatter and mess and noise have become central to my existence such that without it I am purposeless.
For a moment I thought what life would be like without them - my heart sank and I started to panic. I stopped thinking about it and went to the front window. Sitting on the couch, I looked out the window just waiting until they came home.
When she came through the door she was all smiles and so was I. I miss having Sundays with my Heart.