Three Cent Stamp
Amusing musings and streams of consciousness

I awoke before the light this morning. I never sleep well the night before I head out on a trip, especially when leaving loved ones behind. Good mornings are said, my bags are tossed in the car where Webster is already waiting. The lump in my throat swells, as do the tears in my eyes that I cleverly try to hide. I swallow hard and take a deep breath, as I bid my parents farewell. One hug, then another and we hold on as long as we can, extending our embrace, neither my mom nor dad wanting to be the first to let go. “Promise not to cry” I whisper, and my mom shakes her head, but for a single, split second, I see her lower lip quiver. She musters up her courage and tells me that she’ll see me soon, but probably not until Christmas. My dad flashes me that “look” with a frown and he tells me to be sure to drive carefully. I slowly inch down the driveway, breaking every second or so to look back. My parents look so small as I make my way down the road. Thank goodness my sister and I exchanged our hugs and funny faces last night! Webster cries from their driveway to the stop sign at the main road, and his body twists backwards so that he can see them until they no longer can be seen from the rear window.

I drive in what feels like “auto pilot” down the familiar roads until I detour from my standard route to head toward the coast. The 6 ½ hour, winding coastal drive was extended to almost 8 hours due to road work, work traffic and oversized RVs towing cars behind them. I took turns calling my parents and Bill to let them know I was progressing fine and what town I was passing through. The drive gave me a lot of time to think, regardless of what playlist was currently blasting through my little red iPod. Finally, my turn onto Coast Highway 1, I pass a river or two, campgrounds and soon, I see the Pacific Ocean. Only an hour left to go. Still, my mind wanders. Did I tell them I loved them? Sure I did, but how many times? Enough times? I am sad.

I arrive in Fort Bragg, Ca., and call my parents to tell them I am almost at my destination. Ten minutes later, I am in Mendocino, safe and sound. I call Bill with an update. It’s a beautiful day here today, mild 70s, sunny, with a breeze. I check into the inn, lug my bags upstairs and drop on the couch. I indulge myself in eating 1 of the 2 pieces of chocolate that they have left for me. Webster wastes no time in making a beeline for the bed (spoiled little dog). Finally, I meander out to the deck, inhale the sweet, yet spicy air (from the gardens below) and warm myself in the sun. I reminisce about the week and the fun that I had spending time with my family, hundreds of pictures and emotions running through my head in only a matter of seconds. My heart is filled with gratitude that I was able to spend quality time with my family, yet there remains a dull ache, the ache of wanting just one more day. I console myself with thoughts of next time, telling myself there will be another visit with them soon. Soon. I close my eyes and remind myself to stay centered, and while I have enjoyed each and every moment with my family, moments that are now forever burned into memory, I must also enjoy where I am, here. Now.