My two-year-old best friend

Loneliness seems to be one consistent theme of young motherhood. Women flood Chick'fil'a, the aisles at Target, and the train table at the bookstore, I believe with the sole intention of hearing other voices, possibly striking up a conversation with another adult--even a cashier will do. While our children are our joy and pride, they are not our confidantes or soul mates. Their smiles brighten our day and even inspire our giftedness, but they are not normally invitations for a long and meaningful chat.

That, at least, is what I thought.

Josh has only been gone for one night of four and already I feel my energy stores weakening. After a sub-par sleep last night and the lulling cadence of gray, cold rain all day today I was plumb tuckered out on the way home from the doctor. I looked in the rear-view mirror a few times and saw Jonathan's eyelids drooping as well, and hoped silently that we would make it home before one or both of us fell asleep. Add to this fact my lonely momma brain and the residue of unsettling dreams (a result of an absent husband or pregnancy hormones I don't know) and you can imagine how dreary I felt, as if my insides were raining too.

Yet as I drove down New Garden Road I heard my little companion say, "I miss Daddy."

"I miss Daddy too," I assured him genuinely.

"And I want Sandy to come my house," he further stated with chagrin.

"Me too buddy."

It was in that moment that I realized my best friend was sitting in the car with me. No one else on the planet would choose those two individuals, in that order, and in that moment. But I would. One of my recent unsettling dreams was about my late golden retriever, our sweet Sandy girl, and I've been thinking about her every day, missing her and wishing I could bring her darling russet self back into my living room. Most of the time when we talk about Sandy we simply state, "She's in doggie heaven," and it is enough for both my son and I to accept this fact and push the issue no further. In that moment however, that she was gone to a different and hopefully better place was not enough. We both missed her just wanted her back, with no explanations of where she in fact is or how and why she got there.

And no one else would understand that in that very moment in the car I was wishing for my other redhead, my soul mate one, to greet us at the door with his smile and energy and steadiness. No one that is, except my two-year-old best friend...in the world.