Good bye, Old Paint

Do you ever have a day that you feel like you are living in the song lyrics of a generation past?

Today, I came to a breathing point amidst a great deal of activity.

After semi-hosting, and alternatively meeting up with and looking forward to reuniting with my brother, I dropped him off at the airport this morning. Surprisingly, for the both of us, we maintained dry eyes. I like to think that we got to say everything we wanted to say to each other over the weekend. As anyone who has ever struggled to know what to say to a dear family member, you know what I am talking about. My brother is one of my best friends, and yet, due to the shared history, and our own dynamic, I am often shy or hesitant to say what’s on my mind. Luckily, we had the opportunities to let ourselves open up and chat. Matters of great importance were discussed. Basically, we figured out world peace and now we’re biding our time to release the formula.

On top of that bittersweet moment, yes, there is some sweetness in reclaiming your life from another’s schedule, I also bid a sour good-bye to my husband, Dave. Although security concerns make me reluctant to tell you where he is or what he’s doing, he had to leave me for a short time, right when our lives were coming around the upside down part of the cycle we were on. Seriously, I am being a smidgen dramatic about his location and mission, but let’s face it, we grab the drama when we can, right Smith family???!!!???

The good-bye to Dave was sour because we have been on the go so much that I truly relished just being at home over this weekend, and instead, I knew that Dave was suffering through another series of long flights, unfamiliar beds, and drool on his chin. It was sour because we need some time together and now we are apart again. It was sour because I didn’t like it. Yet, sour is one of my most delighted flavor profiles, so it is not all bad. The vinegary taste makes you long for a sweetness to sooth your stimulated tongue. Dave’s return will be all the more sweet for the sourness that I felt upon his departure.

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under 5-100

Sharing is caring...

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