familiar lament

'twas but a decade ago that we were six. these days we scrape together but half of that number. it isn't surprising considering that the dog passed away, and that children have mostly flown the nest... but that's why my thoughts are left unuttered, confined to a bunch of 0s and 1s somewhere on a server in a far away land.
we all imagine our lives in the future. more or less detailed but there is some image. but what happens to the details? could i imagine five years ago that in the year 2008 the family dinner would be my parents and me? perhaps this isn't that surprising and i only longed for my childhood dinners when i'd run home from school in order to sit down at a full table, every day at 7 o'clock... even with the usual quarrel that ended the evening.
as my life took me other places, the idea of that meal, that company was always present. even when i moved away my day would stop at 7 sharp, like when the siren's went of at 3.15 p.m. on may 7th when i was a kid... the day stopped and restarted at 7. and i thought of my family.
nowadays dinner is usually takeaway in front of the television, during a break from work. half the family lives abroad, and it seems that this number will increase in the next twelve months. even holidays aren't the same - it's just too unlikely that we will all manage to get home. and home is redefined. my home has been a backpack (metaphorically and occasionally literally) for months. i'm not tied down by any place, as long as i have a roof over my head at the end of the day and a place to charge my batteries. this doesn't mean that i've physically strayed far, but in my mind i can be anywhere (which i am often, perhaps too often). but in the back of my head there is that classic romanticized idea of the parental home, the fireplace that is always there in the winter, the light in the window at night...
so after the last episode a few days ago, when we managed to get together (missing only one), but didn't even share a meal, and with the vision of what should/could be but in a year, i find my self with the urge to sigh, but at the last moment i choose to hold it back. "this is the way it's supposed to be..."