This morning a fat cloud sits on the mountain at eye level as we sit on the porch in the cool of the morning, Colleen drinking coffee and I sipping the precious Diet Coke I managed to liberate from the plane on my flight last night. On the flight, I watched Genius, the true story […]
It was not easy, leaving my flu-ish husband and teary-eyed daughter at the airport. I hug her extra tight and remind her that we will see each other in Costa Rica as soon as school is out. Still, two weeks is the longest we’ve been apart from each other. At fifteen, she should be able to handle it … but inside, she isn’t fifteen. Inside, she still has a way to go.
Selfishly, I’ve been eagerly anticipating this trip for weeks. My sisters remind me that it’s good for me to get this time away, that the kids will be fine. “You don’t get many chances for self-care,” one sister reminded me. Then again, what mom does? And how many could in their wildest dreams take a two-week break from home? How many would even want to?
Well, I do. And I am so very thankful that I can. It’s taken me a while to arrive at thankful, of course. But now, sitting on the porch and listening to some vintage Amy Grant, looking over the sleepy(ish) town of Turrialba, with its exotic foilage and cool mountain air, I look forward to the surprises the day has in store. Tomorrow morning I’m hoping I’ll be up to my neck in babies. But today, easing into the day with my friend Colleen, I’m enjoying the peace.
And thankful beyond words for my dear husband, who made it all possible.