Holly and I took a little vacation last week.
We had our getaway all planed out, but we still hadn’t settled on a destination, even though my mother-in-law had arrived and it was the morning we were supposed to leave. I wasn’t looking forward to the long drive but had been lobbying half-heartedly for somewhere in Oregon, perhaps Ashland or somewhere along the coast. Holly suggested a few of our past haunts: Portland, or north to British Columbia. We even considered a little college town just before the Canadian boarder.
With the clock ticking, we finally settled on Seattle, which sounds like desperation but ended up feeling like a whole new town without the kids. We saw a show at the Paramount (Phantom of the Opera), did a reading at Eliott Bay Book Company and saw an exhibit at a local art school. Plus lots of good food and long walks.
I remember my mom and dad taking a trip on their own when I was about 7 or 8. When they got back, I asked Mom if she missed us. I fully expected her to tell me how badly she missed me and all my siblings, but instead she just looked at me for what seemed like a very long time.
Finally she said, “Yeah. I missed you.” I knew there was something she wasn’t telling me, but I couldn’t imagine her enjoying herself on her own. I completely understand that long silence now.
Here is Holly on the Harbor steps. I love those posts on the left, which somehow make the picture.
Me hanging out at the Lusty Lady. Rome may be burning, but the Lady still has a sense of humor.
