Good times, good friends… good Momma!

First of all, Happy Valentine’s Day! May your heart be all swoon-y over somebody today — whether it’s a significant other, family member, dear friend or beloved pet.

I had a fantastic weekend away.

I might have overdone the last blog entry because a lot of you seemed really concerned about how I was doing and the state I was in — I apologize for the fear or worry, but really things are not that bad. I think a lot of people were making a much bigger deal out of it than was necessary (perhaps me, too).

Don’t get me wrong, there was definitely some apprehension about leaving and having a selfish two days by myself, but I was pretty much over that approximately five miles into my drive. Oooh, that sounds bad, huh? Eh, I think I’m beyond entitled to blast the music in my car, drive slightly above the speed limit and shower as often as I’d like while enjoying doing absolutely nothing. I think everyone deserves that every now and then.

I arrived at Jeannine and Jeff’s place in Wilmington, Delaware Friday evening and enjoyed some wine and lots of giggle fits with that crazy girl. I love how seamlessly our relationship works now.

It hasn’t always been that way, mostly because of oh, I don’t know, LIFE.

Now, we pick up practically where our last conversation left off. We know each other’s friends and family by name, profession, hobbies and favorite jokes. We know the glazed over sad-to-think-about-it looks and the glazed over too-much-wine-too-much-belly-laughing looks, too.

Oh, and speaking of looks. The way that Jeannine and Jeff look at each other is just so beautiful. I mean that, J & J… please don’t ever lose that. It makes me want to wrap that up in a box and distribute it to everyone in the world who needs that glorious feeling of love in their lives.

On Saturday, after I LITERALLY sat on their couch for about four hours without moving an inch or uttering a word. And I loved every second of it, honestly and truly.

Later that day, Jeans and I went for a drive that I will refer to as the Jeannine Childhood Tour adventure. In addition to a few wrong turns (the two of us should probably NOT be allowed behind the wheel together for many reasons, dating back to 2000), we saw Jeannine’s childhood home, elementary school, high school, friends’ houses and much more. It was amazing. I enjoyed it so much. I like to think I know Jeannine so very, very well — post 10th-grade Jeannine, that is. But I didn’t realize until we drove the streets of Wilmington (which IS the place to be somebody…)together this weekend how very little I know of Jeannine through age 14 or so. I loved filling in those pieces together.

And Saturday night was just as great as the rest of the weekend — a dinner together at the restaurant where Jeff works and more chats far past my Old Lady Bedtime. I woke up Sunday morning and headed back westward, feeling blissfully content as the miles crept around my tires. A carseat base sat in the middle of my backseat the entire trip and as I looked back one time, about to travel through the three mountain tunnels that let me know I’m almost home, I saw some toys dancing in the backseat. And I realized how much I love having stuffed animals and carseat bases in my car. How much I love the smell of baby — even if that baby smell has a bit of milk scent to it.

How I love walking through the door and seeing the two most important people in my life standing there, amidst their normal but busy day, not knowing that in that moment I was healed.

And a shower of kisses and hugs from both of them helped was the last remnants of doubt, stress and fear away.

It was good, so good, to be home. I love what I have.

 

 

Life is perfect.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s