Ol' Blue Eyes

Summer comes this weekend. It's supposed to rain. Oh, well. It's good for the garden.

We're packing up the boys, borrowing their cousin for the weekend, and heading out.
Some adventure will befall us. We'll welcome it. Life is so good.

I've been afraid to own up to just how good it is.

Why is that, Andy wonders? I can't believe I let him read over my shoulder.

Last night I said good bye to the boys. "I'm going to miss you," Silas said. His little face crumpled. "I'll miss you too," I told him. "I love you so much." He nodded, tears pooling. "I love you big as the sky," Rio shouted out the window as they drove off. "And even more."

I waved and waved until they were out of sight. And then my heart broke open. And I started to cry. I pretty much fell down right onto the street with my tears. That's how hard it is to say good bye to them, every single time they go.

And every single time they come back, it's as though they've never left. Full of themselves. Fully, awesomely present. "Hi, mama. I missed you so much." Silas makes a bee-line for me. Rio buries his face in Magic's neck. We pick up where we left off.

And me, well, this evening Andy and I went climbing. Put a rope up on the rock at Fleming Beach and watched the sun go down. I wasn't particularly elegant, but I got up it, eventually. In my own way. Then we walked the dog and smelled the broom mixed with sea salt, and off on the horizon there was a lighthouse painted so nice, red and white.