Long Thoughts

And then, there are those magic minutes where Good decides
to set the sky on fire, just in case anyone is watching.

Joe and I made a quick trip up to Minnesota this past weekend. (His wife wasn't able to come, and the baby stayed home with her.) We wanted to be up there with my niece on the evening of her not-wedding day. Not that we were actually worried about her turning into a train wreck - the wedding was called off for good reasons - but there are some days it's important to not be alone, to spend at least a few hours with a few of the right people if it's possible, and the day you were supposed to get married is one of those days. It was possible, and we are two of the right people in her life, so we went on up for dinner.

I must admit I wasn't looking forward to driving up one day and back the next, but schedules are what they are, and that's all the time we were both able to get free, so off we went.

To my surprise, the drive wasn't bad at all. It has been a good handful of years since Joe and I made the drive together, just us. He's busy these days with work and family and buying a new house and being a responsible adult and and and, and I haven't seen much of him. When we do get together, his wife, and now the baby, are usually along. Their company is not a bad thing, but it does change the conversation.

Historically, when we took a long drive, we would go long stretches without talking - just looking out the windows, one of us napping, listening to the music of the hour. This time, he drove the entire distance (he prefers to drive if he's not too tired), I rode shotgun, and we talked.

About his worries and fears and joys and loves. About the project-to-come that is his new house. About the way the baby's early arrival tore his heart, how Baby Joe's catching up to his age-mates in the last six weeks has eased the tightness Joe carried in his chest for several long months. We talked of the bumpy landing I've had entering retirement, and what I've been doing with my days.

We had time for long thoughts - the ones that only seem to pop up on drives like the one we were on. It took some time to find our old rhythm of conversation. When we first hit the road, our conversation bounced like a stone skipped across the water, and hit only the surface. As the hours wore on we both let down our defenses a bit, and let each other see some of the tender spots. The conversation grew deeper, more open.

I am SO glad we made the trip. Not only did I get to have a lovely dinner with one of my favorite people in the world, I found the unanticipated gift of reconnecting to my son. I realized anew how much I like the man my boy has become. I am proud of him.

Good Is.