When Left Unattended

Home feeling.  There is something about waking up in an upstairs bedroom and hearing your parents in the kitchen downstairs visiting over their first cup of coffee.  It's a home feeling.  Like you are back to the days of not having a care in the world.  Back to the days of not being the grown up.  The first morning I woke up in Arizona, it was that exact home feeling which flooded over me.  When I woke up, it was complete relaxation.  Not spinning about what I needed to do or thinking about what the day would bring.  I simply slowly woke up, smelled the coffee, heard the visits, rubbed my sleepy eyes, wrapped myself in a quilt, and walked down the stairs to the kitchen.  Dad-o was already past the point of relaxing coffee time.  Seven in the morning is too late for him.  But Momma Debi and I brought our coffee out to the patio and enjoyed the steam rising to our faces while the sun added its own warmth. 

Pretty soon it was past the point of coffee relaxing for Momma D as well.  She and Dad-o left to run some errands and do some shopping.  They left me unattended.  After a quick contemplation of what do I do now, the decision slapped me.  Vacation.  Drag the lazy out.  I ran back up the stairs to grab my book, poured another cup of coffee, and curled up in that quilt to stay in the quietness of morning.

Often times, there are these moments I have.  Moments that make me think I'm extremely blessed, lucky, this is the good life, does it get better than this, could this last forever.  Then what happens is I want to capture it.  Figure out a way to show how that sun warmed my bare foot and how it felt shining on my no makeup wearing face and how the breeze blew so slightly through my messy morning hair and how I felt nothing other than content.  Truly content.  I want to capture them and bottle them and save them for later.  Those moments I have.   

I read one more chapter and then just one more chapter before finally putting the morning coffee time away to lace up the running shoes and hit the sidewalk.  Running in the sun is the best.  It really is.  For some reason, I push harder and go farther.   

The sweat is an added bonus.  Sweating until it literally is dripping off the nose is a best ever when running.  When I got back to the house, I was still unattended.  Which is never a bad thing for me.  I'm easily self entertained.  Sitting by the pool with a grapefruit I picked off the tree can become as exciting as hitting the jackpot.  

If you haven't read, The Art of Racing in the Rain, I highly recommend you do.  I sat next to my finished grapefruit for so long that it became crystallized from the hot; it's the kind of book you want to simply read one more and one more and one more word.  I'm usually of the belief dude, a dog is a dog...but in this case, I loved that darn Enzo so much by the end of the book it almost made me want one for myself.  Almost.   

Then I fell asleep.  So hard drool was puddling under my face.  So hard my swimsuit stuck to my body.  I was woke up from Dad-o yelling at me, "Dinner is ready!"  I shook myself out of the sun drunk sleep and made a mental chuckling note of the fact he called in dinner not lunch.

I walked into the kitchen to find salad fixings all chopped and ready for me to assemble and a burger made from North Dakota beef.  This time, I kept the burger on the healthy side.  No bun.  No cheese dripping from everywhere.  No butter soaked mushrooms.  A vacation can not be a free for all after all. 

After lunch, I laid in the sun and laid in the sun and laid in the sun.  Literally all day I relaxed.  Did nothing.  Until I couldn't take it anymore so I showered and got ready for a dinner out.  When I came down the stairs for a letting my hair dry naturally break, I heard laughter coming from the pool.  And then I saw this.  My parents.  Still liking each other.  Still having fun with each other.  Living the dream they have worked more than hard for.  Together.  My heart squeezed.  

Busted.  Busted by your twenty-eight and three quarters year old daughter.  You two crazy things you.  

Dear Momma Debi and Dad-o, I love you two.  You are both as goofy as the day is long, but I love you.  

Dear Self, who knew you were actually a giant?

Dear Evening Colors, you rocked my world.  

And then we had a lovely dinner with a fire crackling and an adult conversation flowing.  As I sat there talking to my parents, it was yet another whammy of when did this happen?  When did I become an adult? 

When did I become so old lady that I fell asleep on the couch before ten just like my dad.  I used to think for goodness sake why can't you stay awake during a movie every time the snores would start coming from the recliner and now apparently, I join right in.  Although, I don't snore.  I drool.  This Momma Debi though?  She's a trooper.  She stayed awake.  Which means the jury is still out whether she's in the snore or drool camp.