From office deadlines to school runs

I left a job I loved to be at home for the children and for my husband while his hours shifted. Some mornings I still catch myself waiting for the 7am matatu I used to take, imagining the city meeting I no longer attend. There is tea cooling on the counter, a laptop sticker from a conference in a drawer, and a small quiet grief that visits when the house is finally still. I do not regret the choice, but part of me mourns a chapter without saying so out loud. Has anyone else carried this kind of quiet loss? How did you live with it?