The Bridge - Part III

I am delusional.  There is no other term for it (well, at least in this situation).  Every day that we have been "crossing our romantic and single lane bridge" we have spoken to at least one of our children and a few who aren't even ours!  Where is the peace and where is the solace when your kids have your cell phone numbers?  I'll tell you what, if there is a cell tower within 20 miles of where you are, then your kids will track you down.  I feel stalked.  No, better yet, I feel like Katniss from the Hunger Games, a book I have yet to read for lack of leisure time.   Questions on finances, class schedules, work schedules, book orders, thunder storms and shoes have been a asked, discussed and decided. Still other questions have yet to be addressed (red mustang for one) and are looming over our little ride on this bridge, just as a dark cloud looms over what was suppose to be a sunny trip.  I am not complaining really, it's just that I am surprised.  Actually, I love being needed - just not so much and not at the moment.  One moment, one long, slow ride over the bridge was what I was looking for.  I haven't even had a chance to miss anyone yet.  A short good-bye cry and two minutes later my cell phone buzzed and it has not stop buzzing yet.  Every time I think I may have the luxury to drop into a depression at having an empty nest, my cell phone buzzes.  The nest may be empty, but it is certainly not void of the presence of kids.  It seems to me that there is a detour sign up ahead.  The bridge is temporarily closed and the sweet sounds of the ocean waves crashing on the shore (which I am convinced is the sound of God breathing) and the sounds of my husband sleeping next me are mingled with the sight of a sign that says, "Bump In Road, Proceed With Caution".  I must close this post now, my cell phone is buzzing . . .