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Archive for March 14th, 2009

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I was shopping at Trader Joe’s when he called from Logan. He’d gone through security already and was in search for a Starbucks.

We stayed in a hotel near the airport last night, after dropping the girls at their dad’s near Boston anyway, we got a sweet deal on a nice hotel with a not-so-warm whirlpool but near a great Mexican restaurant…the hotel had free parking for my car and a free shuttle to the airport for him.

We saved ourselves a few hours this morning by already being there.

When he got on the shuttle, I went to my car and defrosted the windshield and drove out of the parking lot to head north, towards home. His shuttle was still idling in the hotel parking lot.

I was almost done with my marketing, having stopped at TJ’s, and he called from the airport.

“I teared up when I watched your car drive out of the parking lot,” he said over the phone, sounding a little shaky.

I had to quickly stop grinding my coffee and get to the nearest corner so no one would see me choke and cry a bit. I finally composed myself when he diverted to a reminder of our Margaritas last night and what happened after.

Just a few weeks ago, I was shopping for ingredients for his birthday cake and home made soups and grapefruit and intimate things.

Today, I shopped for Q-tips and Farina and a single serving container of Fiesta Dip.

The last two weeks were a whirlwind of  my own work, caring for the girls, keeping up with the house and getting him ready for two gigs. The first is back down on a yacht in the islands and then he will be home in two weeks for approximately sixteen hours before switching wardrobes and flying to Europe to play where it is cooler and more formal (I just saw him try on his suit to pack for the European gig…) 

On top of it all, we went away for four days up north to visit with his family, combined with a fundraiser. There, he played with a guitarist (his cousin), an amazing drummer and bassist. It was a long set in the middle of twelve hours of other very talented local New England musicians, raising money for music scholarships.

At the beginning of the night, we were having dinner and said to me, “so, when I am done playing tonight, let’s get drunk.”

The wine (free) kept flowing, and by the end of the night, we were slightly drunk. I found myself up on stage at midnight with him singing solo, Sarah McLachlan’s “Angel”. His brother-in-law followed along on the guitar and another guy I didn’t know played bass. J played the piano. I sang.

Thankfully, wine doesn’t affect my tune, nor does it affect my remembering the words. 

On a separate occasion, we brought the girls up north to meet his family for a few days and by the end of it, his nephew was calling them his cousins. 

It all feels quite normal and I try hard not to seem starry eyed and gaga and all that, but in reality what I feel is a realness to where I am in my life with him and the girls. I feel gratitude for this love, all around.

Yesterday morning, we were still here at home, we’d dropped the girls off at school and the bags were packed for our trip down to Boston (and his for his gig) later in the day.

I made coffee and food and he looked over at me and said “let’s take this back to bed.”

It’s not quite what you think, because, yes, we got naked and went back to bed with our breakfast.

But on the way upstairs, he went to my tv cabinet and looked through my dvds. I happened to have a copy of “Message in a Bottle” that my mom had just given me. As a side note, my mother is on the strange side when it comes to buying movies…she seems to forget what she already has in her collection. And the uncanniness that she should actually buy TWO COPIES of “Message in a Bottle”, really gets me.

He held it up. “Have you seen this?”

I shook my head and explained how I ended up with it. I had heard it was a definite cheesy chick flick. I had never bothered watching it.

“It has Paul Newman in it!” he exclaimed.

So, we got in bed and started watching. About ten minutes into it, he turned to me and said, “Just for the record, the only reason I wanted to watch this was because Paul Newman is in it.”

He said it again and again, after every painful fifteen minutes of it.  “Remember, I’m only watching this ’cause Paul Newman’s in it.”

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