Last-minute trips might just be the best. Ken had a long weekend off from work, and he decided to add an additional day to it. Found a cheap-but-nice hotel deal, threw some things in a bag and hoofed it on up to Chattanooga. It's only a couple of hours from us and there's plenty to do there. Driving in, the glittering lights sprinkled all over the mountain look like a giant, permanent Christmas tree. Our goal: sleep, eat good, read, write, and reconnect. Those are becoming more and more like momentous feats these days. I've made a point of meeting new people along our way and have already had some conversations. You never know how many people are wonderful and interesting, until you poke yourself into their bubble. Those commercials with the adage of "becoming our parents" make me laugh -- because I am that person... but let me say, it has served me well. I know when to back up and leave someone alone, but most people love to talk about themselves and their lives. The fabric of humanity has many beautiful people, ugly people, mean and sweet ones. That grumpy Grandma in the next booth might be hurting and need some love. But watch out for that warning growl. They sometimes bite.
I went to college north of Chattanooga (Dayton) and had both wondrous and terrible experiences those years. I thought I was the only idiot, but have now seen many, many moronic freshmen who go away to school from a strict family. Idiotic is probably a mild word for it. As we drove through the hills to our destination, I was drawn back to those young days. It literally seemed like last year instead of 45 years ago. My most embarrassing moments and choices happened back then, though thankfully the Lord held me at the edges of the cliffs I nearly went over. I saw my own children do similar things. Heaven help the 18-year-olds. I took Ken's hand, grateful for him and for the road less traveled. We were babies when we got married, but I highly recommend it, as long as you look to the Lord for wisdom and forgiveness through all the stupid things that we are all wont to do.
It sometimes feels like we went to sleep in our twenties and woke up in our late sixties. How did this happen? Time and its slippery continuum leave us gaping as it rushes by. I've gone through so much busy-ness and not stopping to savor what is around me too many times. There have been seasons where I didn't stop long enough to observe the people about, to do the thing of engaging. It's definitely not the cool thing but is also one of the secrets of slowing time down.
I've always been in a rush of sorts. I'm taking art classes now, learning to oil paint, something that I never learned in all my years of painting murals and furniture. It has been humbling, scary and downright frustrating because it requires me to put myself in sloth mode. Slow down. Breathe. Listen. Look. Push through. Don't get impatient. My nature is to produce, hurry up, get 'er done! I am tripping over myself to get better and do more. This is making me reverse that, and I aim to keep at it. To be the turtle instead of the hare. I get nervous, just writing that. Most of our marital fights have been because Ken wants to slow down (turtle) and I think it's a perfect time to panic (hare). Strange thing, though, if you put that man in a vehicle, the Hyde (wicked) part of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde emerges like a wraith. I've been with this man for 44 years and have yet to discern the causes of this. He drives like a bat outa h---- and then takes 15 minutes to park. We keep the knives locked up, jus' sayin'. But God...I love the stuffin' out of that man.
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