Siiiiiiiiggggggghhhhh.

Carl’s leaving for six weeks. He leaves in about forty-five minutes. I can’t even go with him to the airport because his bike box won’t fit in my car and there’s not enough room for me //and// the bike in his mom’s car. He’s going to be in DC working for a month. I can’t make it work to go out and visit him. To be fair, I will see him in Colorado in two weeks when we’re at Treasa and John’s wedding. And then he’ll be home at the end of July…for twenty-four hours, when he has to get ready to go to a glacier in Alaska for two weeks. Real great. Yeah, bye, Carl. Have a good summer. Sigh.

This happened last year too. I missed him last year too. I had a much better

Home”>Fourth of July though, you’ll be happy to know. Like, this year I’m employed and have knitting class to go to, so it’s not all bad, you know? And this week there’s book club, so you know. I won’t be crying myself to sleep too much. Probably. After he leaves I am going to do a bunch of errands and then I’m going to make these wonderful onion tarts (with Walla Walla onions, which are finally in season, thanks so much) and then I’m going to watch Bad Movies at John and Treasa’s house. Ian’s girlfriend is in New York right now, so maybe we’ll raise a pint (Guinness for him, Thomas Kemper root beer for me) and sob for a while.

I’ve known that Carl was going to be gone this month for quite a while, you know. I had everything all planned out. I thought that my mom was going to be here for three weeks, starting this past Thursday. She was planning this big vacation out here and we were going to do all sorts of fun stuff. She was going to spend some time camping and in the San Juans while I had to work, and we had planned some decadent brunches and shopping and things like that, good mom things. I was feeling a little stressed because she was going to be here right as Carl was getting ready to go, and I thought that would be overwhelming for a day or two, but I knew I was going to be really happy she was here. She, very sweetly, had offered to drive me to work every day and then pick me up. I have a feeling she might have packed me a lunch too, had I asked nicely. I would have eaten very well-balanced sack lunches from my mom every day for a month, how great is that? I was really excited. I miss her.

And then last Saturday I got a message from her saying that her mom (you know, my grandmother) was in the hospital and not doing well, and that my mom was going out to Kalamazoo (really) to spend some time with her. She was certainly not going to be able to be here this week, but she thought that she might be able to come out for part of the month. I talked to her the other day and she says it’s best that she’s there for the entire three weeks. I have no idea what that means. My grandma is doing only okay, I know that. She’s really sick for pretty much the first time in her life, and is a little confused. She’s eighty-nine. I’ve offered to go out there for a weekend just to spend some time there and give Mom a break, but she says she doesn’t need me to right now. I don’t know what that means either. So I’m just going to stay here and go to work and go to knitting class and book club and bellydance and get ready for Burning Man and miss Carl and wonder how everyone’s doing. I think it will be okay. Not what I was expecting.

I’ll tell you what, though: I’m really glad that Mom came out for Easter this year and that I got to see my Grammy at my sister’s graduation in April. I’m glad that I get to spend the amount of time I do with my boyfriend, which is really quite a lot. I’m glad he’s getting to change his routine a little and participate in a program that’s really meaningful, even if I think it’s crazy to live on a glacier for two weeks. And even if I’m freaked out about getting ready for Burning Man by myself…which, really, when I think about it, mostly entails buying a lot of stuff. Everything’s going to be fine. No big deal in the grand scheme of life. I’m going to make Carl a hat. Maybe my grandmother too. I would make my mom one too, except Miami’s a little hot for that sort of thing. A halter top? A ceiling fan cozy?

I’m watching Carl get all his stuff together for the plane and just feeling really empty. The exact kind of feeling that gets better if you have your mom to hug you and make you a sack lunch. Sigh.


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