Want

I’m reaching. Are we all not reaching for something, somehow?

All reaching for that thing that will utterly and absolutely complete us and

make our lives doable – for now.

That idea or fantasy that could perhaps makes us feel whole, complete and

worthy.  Sure, we act as if we’re asking politely and getting permission, but we’re usually not.

And SO WHAT? What if we do want it? Don’t we deserve it? After all, we have wanted it for a while now. We can make a case for wanting it.

Maybe we can just grab it and turn the blinds when conscience knocks.

After all, we asked ‘please’ and waited for an answer.

Well, we got one… But defied it and then changed the question to suit our need.

We want it when we want it.

Newer. Cleaner. Fresher. Bigger. Faster. Better. Nicer. Straighter. Lighter. More “together”.

Imagine the possibilities. Imagine what it could actually do for us.

I bet it would make our lives easier. Even improve our lives. Right now.

We just can’t seem to wait. Patience seems far from us at these moments.

Need… Don’t need… Whatever.

We caught a fleeting glimpse. But how in the world was that enough to lock us in?

Don’t really like it. Don’t truly love it. Honestly don’t need it. Must have it. Why is that?

Do we really need more? Probably not.

But what drives us to feel as if we really do need more than we already have?

Is that only a hint at how large that void is that we try so desperately to fill?

Surely, we could help one another to alphabetize and categorize the things, ideas and notions we’ve thrown in to that vast and open space.

I sometimes think the adventure is not in the ‘having it’ so much as the ‘wanting it’.

Call Us Paranoid

So later this year, Marti’s got her 20th high school reunion. So as we were making a plan for plane tickets to head up to New Jersey for the shindig, something pulled at me from deep inside my brain.

As most of you know, we have three kids: Cameron & Jordan, 11, and Olivia, 6. I often get sad when I think of being away from the kids for an extended period of time, and this reunion takes us away for an entire weekend. They’ll be in great hands, so that’s not a problem. My dad is coming up from Tampa to stay here with them, so it’s the best situation for all of us. They’re sleeping in their own beds, staying with Papa, whom they love, etc…

I can hear what you’re thinking… “It’s only a weekend… Only three days, blah, blah… Go! Have fun! Enjoy 3 days without the kids!” I mean, that’s what I would tell a friend leaving for the weekend without their kids. But if it’s any indication, we had ONE night away from the kids to celebrate our 10th anniversary, and we couldn’t wait to pick them up. We missed them so badly. Pretty silly.

So as we’re booking plane tickets, something nagged at me. What if, God forbid, something were to happen to Marti and me, and the kids were left alone? That thought, as slight as it seemed, saddened me to the point where I spoke up to say that I thought we should fly on separate flights. It’s funny, because Marti must’ve been feeling the same thing because she didn’t give it a second thought, either. It reminds me of how I always heard that the Coca-Cola executives who had access to the secret formula for Coke never traveled together in case something tragic should happen to them while they were traveling and left no one behind that could ever access the formula.

So we’re flying out of Atlanta, about an hour or so apart. Just in case.