My parents were returned safe and sound yesterday. They had been sailing around South America for 5 weeks. I picked them up at O’Hare. They had a wonderful trip. And looked tan and relaxed. I heard about their cruise antics and port to port fun. Buenos Aires and Rio De Janeiro have been on my list of places to visit. Their adventure kicked up my wanderlust to go. We must have plenty of Irish gypsy in our ancestral tree.
I caught them up on current events, family hoopla and my own dramas. It’s funny how 5 weeks of life can be condensed into 5 minutes of chit chat. The momentousness of an incident diminishes in a synopsis version. I’ve always believed things look better after a good night sleep. Well, how will it look after 33 nights of sleep? I wish I had the capacity to step out of an emotional exchange to ponder that. To stop and ask myself ‘how will I feel about this in 5 weeks?‘ I’m sure I’d have to conclude that nothing is that big a deal.
Ah, to be so enlightened. Something to strive for.
During our ride back to Indiana, my parents casually inquired about snow. I lamented about the ongoing apocalyptic season and the doom and gloom forecast. I made sure to warn them not to comment on the weather to anyone. Since they had a significant reprieve from this never-ending winter, they have no idea that people are one snowflake away from losing it. Nobody trusts that in five weeks there will be no more snow. At this point, it’s unfathomable.
This is a picture from our vacation house in Guatemala… about 13 weeks ago. It was the last time I had ten days without snow. Today’s forecast says snow. Talk to me in 5 weeks.