Decompression Session

I’m in the heart of the Keys, the Florida Keys, just before the 7 mile bridge.

It is warm and beautiful.

The helicopters have been circling above, and the roosters been cocka-doodling next door since 3 a.m. (that is correct). The sun has scorched my ghostly white legs in less time than it took to rise up from my Adirondack chair — what felt like a full minute, a big loaf of dough rising.

The front porch of our cottage lets just enough sun in (and onto my legs). Harley, our Am Staff, is having a difficult time settling down on the porch with me once he sees the children. He’s usually calm, observant, until any animal and kid come along. He’s whining and pacing, howling if he makes eye contact. He wants to play and be more loved than he is from the one at the other end of this leash, me.

My husband is somewhere out on the Gulf or Atlantic, fishing with his dad. Today was my day to ‘decompress’. I got my list done, because I had one, the things I left undone before we left. I ate lunch, and after showering, because yes I’m on vacation and can do that after lunch, I took stock of my clothing situation.

Last night I had a good chuckle when my husband told me he didn’t bring any t-shirts and he “needs more underwear". Missing essentials is not uncommon for him. Before we left, I asked him to lay out his clothes so I can make sure he’s got it all. “I’m grown.” he replied.

It’s been such a busy three weeks that when it came time for me to pack I spent ten minutes looking at my dress sandals. I decided not to take them, and wished I had casual beach sandals.

I do have casual beach sandals. In fact they’re extremely comfortable and I wore them almost all summer, but I just remembered them today. Here.

And I didn’t pack enough underwear.

After a rather long and intricate string of forgetfulness, I really fear that I am losing my mind.

I am truly becoming alarmed.

Taking a vacation at this time of year is almost impossible in my career. But I knew I could make it happen and I did, utilizing that very final shred of time. Added to the normal household things to do before leaving for 9 days is the web of things my son needed after his most recent hospital stay, (appointments, prescription changes, etc.).

Its been an overload to the noggin, I guess, although clinically I find that I really am losing it.

The road trip itself was filled with special moments, partly because we were exhausted — the other part because my brain was already on vacation. I think we both said “divorce” and “I’m done” so many times it fails to have meaning.

I’m kidding. We really meant it. Every time.

I thought about writing each fubar and meltdown (his, mine is still buried), as a sort of story here, but I think anyone who ever went on a long road trip with their partner knows the kind of special times we had. No need to trigger anyone.

So I begin the decompression: relaxing, and whatever else it means. Perhaps it’ll stave off mind deterioration and even repair the damage. Rejuvenate?

I’ll be spending the next few days living the quiet Keys life — behind the social scene exploring, reading, listening to music deeply, possibly writing and probably fishing.

And I will cherish everything.