"All men dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds, wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act on their dreams with open eyes, to make them possible." ~ T. E. Lawrence
Yesterday the best of surprises called me up. My mama was flying from Alaska to Tennessee to see my brother and sister-in-law and her flight from Seatac to O’Hare was cancelled due to weather. She ended being able to rent a car and make the drive up to Bellingham to stay with me for the evening and is heading back to Seatac this morning to catch her new flight.
My joy can’t quite be expressed. I see my mom maybe 2-3 times each year. We’re close and way too similar sometimes so each reunion is wonderful! I managed to get out of work early to meet up with her.
Yesterday was also the start of my cycle training for my 4th 90 Day Challenge. Reunited with my beloved road bike at last (her name is Francette)! I made plans to carpool to work with my bike and then cycle the one way home. It was chilly yesterday and I haven’t ridden a bike for any considerable distance in some time. In the spirit of full disclosure: it was a rough ride. The hills, oh the hills how they make my legs burn! My metabolism is reeling in shock from 17 miles of road. I hit a head wind for my last 5 miles and was reminded that these are the moments that you really learn to be committed to a goal – the times when you have to pry your numbed hands off of the handlebars, and the only way you know that you’re still pedaling is because of the speedometer on your cockpit, because let’s face it, you can’t feel the pedals under your frozen feet. And I’ll spare the you sorry tale of my sore, sorry tail (i.e. butt). I survived my winter ride (without having to phone a friend) and will now work up my courage for the next one. But back to getting to meet my mom.
She beautiful, my mama. She’s absolutely radiant and stunning with the most warm and kind smile – completely genuine and full of life and love (in true dumb-dumb form, I neglected to take pictures of us together). That moment when I first see her and just fall into those arms – it’s more valuable to me than gold. And the excited chattering to catch up on life. She regaled me with tales of the Iditarod, her travel mishaps and adventures, I shared about my writing ventures, cycling experience, and everything in between.
The momentous occasion was worth celebrating, so BF and I made chicken piccata (perhaps a recipe for a future Tasty Tuesdays posting), roasted red potatoes, a strawberry spinach salad, and custard for dessert! We cooked together, talked together, laughed together and had a great evening. And I’m not going to lie, I stuffed my maw with all the deliciousness.
This morning my mom and I said our bittersweet goodbyes. Sometimes I’m a bit sad after she’s gone. The sense of aloneness pervades and I’m reminded of the distance that spans between my parents, my brothers, and me. But I wouldn’t trade these moments with any of my family. Melancholy can’t hold us down because there’s another reunion ahead – another visit in the making.