flotsam, there is something wrong with me


Missing the adventure of winging to some far-flung place, seeing new sites, meeting new people.

Missing the casual ease of popping over to visit my folks, the quiet pleasure of inviting them over for a meal, maybe a show watched together…

Missing sleepovers with my sweet girls, complete with movies and popcorn and card games and cozy blankets and snuggles. I miss those snuggles. I miss my girls. I miss my family.

COVID fatigue.

“Normal” got weird in 2020

But also…

Missing Alice and Lynn and all the gang — my families back home in New Jersey. The celebrations and the gatherings, the Bible studies and casual evenings around a table or shared across a living room. The room they made for me in their lives and in their homes…

Missing Saturday morning ladies group at my place, coffee set out and my spot between Kathy to my right and Linda to my left, Joc probably at the far end of the table, all these dear lovely faces… extra folding chairs pulled up for six, seven, eight… All the smiles, all the wisdom, and all the tears shared round the circle, because it wasn’t really a meeting if no one cried (and it was always a meeting).

Missing being able to call my friend when she was just having a sad lonely time and tell her no, pop over and have a sleepover, because ice cream and warm friendship and someone to talk with about the deep things are sometimes a deep comfort.


And then…

Missing Christmas lunches with Pete, once a year meet-up to catch-up. Sometimes around the holidays, sometimes postponed by scheduling issues to the new year. The most awful octopus dish or the most delightful Tuscan feast, a new place each time – inevitably laughing over the things we couldn’t possibly have laughed at when we were living through them.

Missing Dot, glad to know her house is coming along, her boys are well.

Missing my adventure friends from Asia and Greece, from Iceland and Ireland, from Costa Rica and Peru.


Tick tick ticking

And then again…

Missing how Chris would call for a catch-up, how Al and I exchanged emails, about everything and nothing for the longest time, and how David would call, like clockwork, on my birthday.

Missing Sito, hoping he and his wife and son are all thriving.



And of course…

Missing my uncle Steve. My grandparents, uncles, cousin.

… and beyond.

Happy Veteran’s Day


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