We left the house at 6:30 am (ish), stopped at Wawa for doughnuts and coffee, and in spite of the slow southbound traffic on 95 we made it with time to spare. Christian is at an awkward travel age; according to the airlines he’s old enough to travel alone but according to the state of Pennsylvania he’s too young for a driver’s license with a picture, and TSA requires photo identification to go through security. Although the ticket agent assured us that his school badge and picture would work, I thought it best to hover outside of security until he made it past the final checkpoint.
I headed home with a bit of apprehension and anxiety about the many hours of being alone that lay ahead of me. I thought about the fact that I hadn’t had time to make my bed before we left, tempting, but not an option. I smiled about the self-confidence and sensitivity it required for Christian to transport a medium size stuffed Winnie the Pooh bear from Philadelphia to St. Louis because his sister asked him to. And I worried, wondering if Jeff had gotten his car checked out to make sure it was road worthy and would safely carry three of the most important people in my life on a twenty hour out and back road trip.
I spent the afternoon in my favorite place. The brick felt cool under my feet, the scent of spring drifted through the slats of the blinds, and the sun lit the blank paper canvas propped against my easel. Ever since I drew the pine cone I’ve had it in my head that I want to draw a companion piece, a rose, and I figured there was no time like the present. I was too distracted to write but knew I needed a creative outlet. I thought and drew and I drew and thought. I used the techniques Anne taught me and I brought the first draft of my rose to life just in time for dinner.
Dinner. I considered the options and wondered what other women do for dinner when their kids are en route to their dad’s wedding. My freezer was stocked with Lean Cuisine entrees, I have the Chinese delivery number on speed dial, and a new arrival from Netflix waited for me in the den. My immediate reaction was “nope, nope, double nope.” I pondered going to dinner on my own and the dreaded response from the host or hostess, “Oh… ‘just one’?”
Thirty minutes later a beautiful woman wearing a little black dress and a denim jacket arrived at the fanciest restaurant in town and approached the host.
“One please, “I said with a smile.
He grinned back, “One it is, would you like a view of the river?”
I noticed there was something different about our exchange. I didn’t say ‘just one’ and he didn’t either. Lesson learned, how you think about and present yourself is how others will perceive you.
Oh, and I very much enjoyed my dinner and the view of the river.