A month ago, Ken flew back home. He’d been out of town on business for 3 weeks…the longest we’ve been apart since we got married.
Before we got married, we lived on opposite ends of the country from each other, so we’d get to spend a week together and then say goodbye, counting down the months, weeks, days until we could be together again.
We met online…back when that wasn’t really a thing. 1996. Our 23rd anniversary is coming up in a couple weeks, which seems shocking. Time roars by. It’s like going on a trip. You’re completely aware of the inside of the car, or the train, or the airplane, and the scenery rushes by without time to get too used to one view before another one has taken its place.
Somewhere along the way, the boys grew up; one is just a few miles from being a man and living his own life, while the other is already there. How did that happen so quickly?
Thoughts on Life
Hmm, this isn’t what I thought I’d be writing about today. I thought I was going to share about waiting and wondering, knowing we were in an airport before everything hit the fan. Instead, I’m pondering life as a vehicle that travels through time. I kind of like that image. It fits, you know?
It doesn’t help that we spend so much of our lives wanting to jump to the next part. Remember the road trips when you were young, and asking, “Are we there yet?” You knew you weren’t, but you wanted the answer to be different than what you knew. And, you really wanted to get out of the car and away from the ever changing landscape for a while.
I wonder how many of us are feeling that way now? “Are we there yet? Can we take a break from being quarantined now? I need to go to the bathroom.”
That was always the magic phrase, wasn’t it…the one that would have your parents searching for a place to stop. Although you had to be careful. Use it in a place where there were not stops around and you might find they expected you to go in the woods. Or, if it got used too much, they’d make everyone sit in the car while you ran in to the restroom. Then you’d come out to find your brothers glaring at you because all you’d succeeded in doing was making the trip longer.
Kind of like the people who struggle to deal with the quarantine now, so they go hang out in public. Like the spring breakers at the beach…making the trip longer for everyone else.
I wonder what the world will be like when we reach the end of this journey. I don’t want to rush this one by because I have a feeling we’re on a trip that we’ll never be able to return from…that when life “goes back to normal,” it won’t really be, there’ll be a new normal, and it’ll be weird. Weirder even than the idea of meeting your husband online seemed to people 20+ years ago.
What do you think?