Fall 2013

              There are days when the time is right for getting away. A test of strength maybe.  Just so you know you can survive driving curves not already etched in your mind. Just so you know that you can check yourself successfully into a B &B. Just so you know you can figure out how much to tip.

 

                We jokingly called it Celebration of Limbo, but deep down we knew those were just words.

 

                Maybe it was more a celebration of laughing…and eating two breakfasts in one morning…and picnicking in the dark. And remember how we were the only guests wherever we stayed the night? And just now – the last night and we can not sleep – the most terrifying paranormal sounding cat is meowing outside of our door.

                How about celebration of heart failure.  

 

                Or no. This is just life, really.

                Maybe that man at the corner store said it better. Discussing the size of our Tootsie Rolls, we said they weren’t the smallest, but not the big ones either.

                “The in betweens,” he said sleepily, plugging in the correct price. “You guys should form a band and call it that. Yeah.”

                Yeah. That’s us. Rocking our American money confusion and maps spread out on the dash board.  Maybe that’s what celebration of being in between looks like.

 

                Could people read it on our faces? Is that why every person skipped hello and went straight to “What on earth are you doing in these parts”?

                Do we need a reason?

                Well, maybe, yes.

                Funny how it comes to you when you are sitting footsore and quiet in a coffee shop with your chin in one hand.  Funny how Emily is absorbed in her book. Funny how Millie is sketching our messy hair. How I’m putting pen to paper.

 

                Fact is, we didn’t come to find ourselves. One deadbolts the doors before bed, one wakes up laughing. I fold our jackets and stack them in the back seat. And oh how they cheered me up Blueberry Hill Road. That was the closest I’ve ever been to shutting my eyes and just letting the car roll backwards.

We know darn well who we are.

                But we’re growing, like the trees that flick their amber leaves across our windshield and it is a sweet, sweet thing to do that together.

                Do you see how those trees stand tall? They know what they’re here for…no doubts under the cloud’s shifting shadows.

 

                We came to see them. Do you think we came to be them?

 

                Mm. Lets.

                And turn up the radio. The sun just came out.