Sunday, March 6, 2011

Picture This



(I wrote this post a few weeks ago, but didn't publish it because I didn't have a good picture to go with it. But a friend said that her most therapeutic posts were usually without pictures, and now I feel compelled to post it. Furthermore, I snapped a picture so its REALLY ready to go, therapy and all.)

* * *
Its a dark, snowy evening. You try out the new "Cell Phone Lot" at the airport, pick your husby up from the his long weekend trip. It all starts out very sweet, as he's been gone for a long weekend, and you haven't spent much time with him lately at all.

You are in a hurry, so you bring home McDonald's. Mmm...fries. You have just one bite of his burger, then make a snippy comment about feed lot beef. The dog pees on the floor. He gives you your Valentine's Day present early. Now you feel a little sheepish about the snippy comment.

Its extra snowy now, the flakes glow against the streetlight, making a peaceful scene through the living room windows. You are very happy, but with caution. You have learned how to be happy with caution with great proficiency lately. You know this cozy scene won't last, and he has to leave. Soon. Hanging out is fun, but it doesn't pay the rent. So, you pray together and then its time to go.

He clears off two inches of fluffy snow from his car. Its really coming down now. You sit in his car while he scrapes the car doors. A few extra minutes of together time. You playfully lock the doors from the inside when he's finished scraping, so he can't get in to start the car and to leave. You both laugh at the little joke.

But now its too late to play any more games. You suck it up, let him in, and get a goodnight/goodbye kiss. You both laugh again at how sad this is. You wave goodbye. He honks and waves and turns the corner. You can only see tire marks in the snow.

Then you remember that husby's car isn't front-wheel drive and you shudder to yourself. Or maybe you are shivering from the cold. It doesn't matter. You know you will worry for the next two hours and then some. You feel your tears mix with the snowflakes on your cheeks and are ashamed for crying when your life is so good.

You walk back inside. Its warm and toasty and cozy. You feel bad for that, because you know your love has a two hour drive through the driving snow and an empty, cold house waiting for him and a 6am wake-up call. You feel guilty again for being sad -- you have so much to be thankful for.

Its a pretty tragic story.

But then you open a package from your best faraway friend. You can't help but laugh. You love cute things.
(Cute Asian dental erasers!)

And friends. And snow. And life.

But some days are harder than others.


1 comment:

Holly said...

Perfect Post! I am so glad you took the advice!

I love you!! And I hate that this is your situation right now!