We have a large wood table in our dining room. It seats 6 comfortably but we’ve gotten 10 people around it a time or two.

It’s home to family meals, friendly chats, art projects, pumpkin carving, other things…

Right now I sit at one end of it, my beloved dining table. Mike sits at the other. There is such space between us right now. I type silently with a tiny smile playing at my lips… it’s been a good day. He sits typing with furrowed brow intent on what he’s doing. He had a productive day.

Both of us are quiet. Both of us are occupying our own space. Both of us are happy to be here, just in the presence of each other.

But he says nothing. He looks at his computer now, not at me. How could I know we’re happy just to be in the same room together?

Because 10 minutes ago I was sitting in the other room using my computer and he leaned into the room with his tired smile and asked me to come out and join him.

There is no one I’d rather share a room with than the silent man at the other end of this table…


Mike’s out of town on business, I wrote this post before he left.

Have a safe trip baby, I love you.