I feel abandoned; I admit it. You’ve all flown off to sunny-warm-peaceful-lazy-dazy-sleep in-and swim-at-night Hawaii and I’m here alone in cusp-of-spring-but-more-like-winter-sometimes blue-but cold-and-yes wet-PNW February.
I saw the first signs I would be in this situation after Christmas when you packed away your trees or put them by the curb and stopped talking about the warm glow of family time and began haunting internet airline and VRBO sites hunting down points and rental cars and sleeping accomodations. I noticed when your cheeks began to burn in mid-January because you’d made your plans, a result of your reluctance to share the secret of your plans to run away with us, the “Left Behind.” While we celebrated and counted the additional minutes of daylight each day with joy, you were madly counting your days until take-off, dreaming at night of warm sunlight, beaches and ocean breezes.
Work and reality kept me from the full realization of my abandonment until the Facebook photos appeared: bare toes at the edge of ocean beach scenes, drinks sparkling on little tables close at hand, fish caught fresh for dinner. But it wasn’t until the photos stopped that I really felt the slap – because you are now really gone.
You’re having fun, you’ve left reality behind, you are in Never Never Land with Peter Pan. No pirates, no crocodiles, no ticking clocks.
And I’m here with my shadow! Friends and Countrymen! Could you at least send Tinkerbell to keep me company?