This is every day now

I'm finally over my car lag (as opposed to jet lag) and been here two and a half days already. Feels like I've been here awhile, but then I'm completely comfortable at Tom's house. I'll be looking for my own place this week, and I may have something lined up already with one of my Florida crochet buddies (hey, I joined that group to make connections as much as to sit around yarning with a bunch of women). More on that as I figure it out. For now, I'm at Tom's houuse with him and Josh & Erin, his roommates. And Walter the dog and Tucker the cat. So yes, I've got a little bit of a cat fix here but don't even get me started on missing my cats (no, I didn't bring any - yet!).

The skies have been blue and sunny and the days have been about 80 since we got here. Matthew and I went to the beach yesterday, me donned in my bathing suit and flip flops, him in.... jeans. I guess it's been awhile since I took my son to the beach and I didn't know that he has little interest these days in getting in the water. Or wearing shorts apparently. Well, if they visit, I'll surely know it's to see me and not take advantage of the locale.

While driving about yesterday, Matthew said, "Wow, it's like a forget sometimes. You really live here now." "I know," I said, thinking about how it just feels like we're on a little vacation together and everything is normal. Not thinking about putting him on a plane tomorrow morning and not seeing him for months at a time. I tear up just thinking about it, and when I think about hugging Thomas goodbye in the living room of Mansion Road at 3:00am on Wednesday, him not letting go for those extra moments and me telling him as I felt it, just how much I'm going to miss him. Those words don't cover the feeling at all. My heart and soul ache with removing myself from a world where they are, even if it's just in passing through as they leave for work or joining me in the living room for an hour of TV, with barely a look or comment in passing sometimes. We really do squander so many moments in life.

But this isn't the wild west when people left home for adventure with a true chance of never returning. Where a letter home might take weeks, if it was ever received at all, and a parting look through teary eyes is all you had to remember of those faces you love most. I'll be back, and they'll be here - jeans and dark clothes and all - and it will be just and extension of what we already have.