Sunday, May 23: the one that got away
“—until everything/was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow!”
May 22 started at about 7am on Saturday and ended at about 11 pm on Sunday—almost a full 40 hours of one day. Saturday night got away with not sleeping and Sunday swathed itself in the pink-cheeked blush of adrenaline and cringe.
I didn’t sleep at all on Saturday night. After a full day of driving and family hellos, I was exhausted but too stimulated to sleep. So I laid in the hotel’s queen bed, next to my gently sleeping 14-yr-old daughter, and in the same room as my gently snoring 40-something sister, watching the clock. Perhaps I nodded off for a few moments, but I saw every hour on the digital clock. I did the mental math:
1:10 am: So if I fall asleep now, I can still get 5 hours of sleep.
It’s 3:17 am—I might make it on 3-4 hours.
4:45 am. Perhaps if I get a couple of hours now, I can come back and have a nap this afternoon.
But I got none of those things.
And yet, even with a 40 hour day—the longest day this month—I did not find time to blog. May 23 got away.
But I did get in a 2.5 mile run at 7:30 am followed by a quick shopping trip with the cuz. A change of clothes and we were off to the purpose of our trip—my aunt and uncle’s 60th wedding anniversary party. What you thought would be a docile affair of Sunday afternoon cake and sandwiches became a story-filled romp through the sexual adventures of the elderly with my octagenarian relatives recounting the kissing, ogling, and lovemaking that got them from 1961 to 2021.
That bit of parental PDA sent their middle-aged children, nieces, and nephews to the hotel pool with a bottle of wine, a few six-packs, and a bag of potato chips. I at least wore my bathing suit—a couple of us got in the pool in a bra and underwear. We were breaking every pool rule ever set (except for the no running part), but we were a gaggle of cousins in our 40s and 50s who hadn’t seen each other in 4+ years—what could the 12-year-old working the front desk gonna do to stop us, huh?
In our frenzy of 50 years’ familiar but 4 years’ distant conversation, we decided that we needed to do this again soon. Getting together for anniversary celebrations is far better than meeting for funerals, and reunions just because are better than both. So “Thanksmas” was born into the first week of December when no one is making plans for anything and plane tickets are cheap.
I’m not sure it will happen, but we owe it to each other to not let the time we have as a family get away.
