Each day, when I start up my computer, Skype comes up. I usually log off the night before, so I log in and change my comment. Today, it reads "33 days!" That's 33 days until I see Becky again. Although we have to wait, we don't want to. We're constantly talking about the moment we see each other again, which goes something like this...
Having spent 33 hours traveling by bus, I arrive in...ummm...some place I've never heard of. Becky has been waiting there with Kat since about a half an hour before my arrival time. I get off the bus, we see each other, and we embrace one another....and we embrace...and we embrace...and we embrace some more...and eventually Kat comes over with a crowbar, inserts it between Becky and I, and starts the monumental task of prying us apart. Somewhere in there, a few dozen people pass us, each one saying, "Get a room!" (Oh, we will, oh jealous one. We will!)
The rest of our plans are being solidified. In fact, the only thing missing at this point are my bus tickets, and those will be purchased tonight. Becky being the one with the money, she has promised to buy those tickets, (as well as pay for most of our motel requirements). The thing is that Greyhound wanted to charge her an extra $18 per ticket as a - get this - GIFT FEE! A gift fee? Are they kidding?!? Once I heard that absurd fee, I told Becky to send me the money and *I* would buy the tickets directly. The money is in the bank now, so buying is what I'll do.
Right. Tickets will be on their way...all motels have had reservations made, including...
*sigh* Our trip to Long Island is going to be short, but should also be eventful. I'm thinking it's time I sat my father down and explained the facts of life to him. Like the fact that his little boy is far from little anymore. I'm actually much older and wiser than he knows. This "nice guy act" that he seems to think I'm performing at all times is not an act at all. This is who I am. And if he can't accept that, there's going to be a severe reduction in the amount of times I bother having contact with him. I can no longer come away from each and every phone call having regretted I bothered talking to him.
Like last night. I called him to tell him that Becky and I had solidified motel reservations for two nights on Long Island. In fact, we'll be in the same town where he lives. That means Becky and I can get to town, check in, head to visit Dad, and then retire for the night. But when I was on the phone with Dad, it was as though he honestly didn't care what plans I'd made. And since I was on Skype with Becky while I made that call, I hung up and commented, "Don't sound TOO enthused, Dad."
Fine. I'll be the one to look forward to the visit. He can just suffer, if suffering is what he chooses to do.
Other things I'd like to do include showing Becky where I grew up. In fact, I'm hoping the current residents will actually allow her and I inside. The interior will have changed, but my ability to recollect what the old house looked like should be enough proof that I once lived there. And if time permits, I'd like to drive out to Brooklyn and show her where the family auto parts store used to be. (I hope we can find body armor on such short notice.) If at all possible, maybe I can sneak upstairs to see if any of my stuff that was store there is available for me to take back with me. (Becky can hang onto it until I move to PA.)
The only thing I fear about my return to Long Island is having to confront old ghosts. I'm fairly sure my brain will be overloaded with virtual tons of memories. Luckily, I'll have the w3oman that I love at my side to keep me grounded.
And speaking of the woman I love...33 DAYS!!! Just over a month, and I'll be able to hold and kiss and...ummm...hold and kiss my sweet, beautiful Becky! No more reaching for a computer screen to stroke her cheek. I'll be able to do it in person! HUZZAH!