Home from San Fran

July 27, 2009

I've started to blog today a couple of times about Jeremy and my trip to San Francisco this past weekend, but wasn't sure how interesting you would find all the details. So I scrapped that. Suffice it to say, we had a wonderful time. We ate great food, had a blast on the wine tour, enjoyed our ferry ride across the bay, got plenty of exercise, saw interesting sights, and Jeremy even scored some records at a record shop just a block away from our hotel. It doesn't get much better than that!

We had these moments throughout the weekend when we talked briefly about the trials we've survived in our not so distant past. I don't know how to explain it to you, other than the fact that we carry something with us now, wherever we go, whatever we do. It's this bittersweet thing. There is a solemnity, a secret, a knowing, a bond between us now. It won't be broken.

We talked about her at the end of the trip. We both got all choked up. One tear fell from my eye. Just one tear. One evening at dinner on Pier 39 there was a little girl sitting at the table across from us. She was about a year old. I commented on how cute she was. She was checking Jeremy out when we left. But I didn't say anything more. I guess I didn't need to. He said later he knows when I'm thinking about her. He thinks about her too. I told him Harper would have been that little girl's age. He knew.

I pointed out to him the hummingbirds I saw on the trip - twice, one on Friday and one on Saturday. I told him I was comforted. It was like she was there with us, just for a little bit. "Do you think that's corny?" He said he didn't. He said we're thirsty for it. He said people who are thirsty see mirages.

He can be grumpy. I can be irritable. He can play loud music and want to stay home because, to paraphrase the Lemonheads, what if something's on TV that he'll never see again? I can want to take weekend trips around the country and require silence in the mornings. He can eat meat. I can chose tofu. But none of that matters. You might think it does, but it doesn't. He has my heart. I don't know how else to say it. He has my heart.

Thank you dear friends for all your love and support that allowed us to enjoy each other's company so deeply this weekend. You just never know how far the kind things you do for others go. Thank you.

(P.S. Jeremy informed me it was Tom Morgan of Smudge who actually wrote that Lemonheads song.)