We leave tomorrow for a week in Hawaii and I’ve been trying to prepare myself for the insanity of today, the day before, but there really is no way to prepare. Today is the longest journey.
Of course there is the packing . . . but that isn’t all of it. There are the animals: a messy cockatiel and a goofy, aging yellow lab. It dawned on me earlier this week that they can’t survive on their own so I scrounged to find a suitable vacation for them, too. Thankfully, my friends across the street embrace the chaos of life and are willing to watch both — in addition to their own two children, their own dog, another friend’s dog, and a foreign exchange student. They might need a trip to Hawaii by the end of this week.
There is laundry . . . the ever-growing pile of laundry that seems to grow like refrigerator mold, hidden from view until “Oh my God, what IS that smell?” wafts out of the teenage bedrooms. Of course, there is also the actual refrigerator mold which needs to be taken care of today, because with a daughter home from college who shops for food and eats like a teenage boy, I must have a compelling reason to forage around in that fridge. Not wanting to return home to disaster, I’m thinking today’s the day I grin and bear it.
Throw in a couple of last minute surprises: a kid who lost her work ID and her BART ticket minutes before having to catch her train (total panic) and who knows what else might pop up (it’s only 7:00 AM, so there’s always time) — not to mention a morning memorial for a colleague, and you begin to get a glimpse of how long this day will be.
As is my morning meditation, I sat down to write after scrolling through pictures I took the last time we were in Hawaii. They remind me of the light — such glorious light — that waits and that we are very lucky indeed.
While I wish I could skip today and just land in those tropical isles, there is something about the yin and the yang of life that insists on today. Onward!