Superbowl Sunday
I found myself flipping through old photo albums this morning. With a cup of black coffee in hand, I sat outside our porch flipping page after page, recalling the stories that accompanied each picture. I looked out into the beach, smiling and loving the fact that I was back home. It seemed like it had been forever since I had slept in my old bed even though it was perhaps just two or three months ago. Life has been marvelous these past months. Words do not really suffice. There is no word for what I feel when I wake up next to one amazing woman who just makes my life make sense. There is no phrase to describe what it feels like to have her smile at me just before we go to bed at night. There is no sentence that will clarify what it is like to watch her out in the yard playing catch with our dog, Jack. There simply are no words. And just like how I’ve felt and continue to feel, there is no mixture of letters that would describe today.
Superbowl Sunday is a tradition in our house. Once the game is on, everybody is glued to the TV. There are no rules as to where one should sit or what one should eat. Food is already prepared that morning and if there is something that you might want that is not out there on the kitchen counter, you are more than free to raid the fridge and the pantry. The women are no exception to this tradition. In fact, the women in my family love football. Okay, I won’t go as far as saying the word love but they really do like it. Even though my mom is not as familiar with the rules, she still enjoys the game and cheers every time her team (which she usually determines by their jersey colors) makes it to the other side of the field. Hilarie is no foreigner to the game. With 3 brothers of her own, she was accustomed to the cheering and yelling this afternoon.
The game was great, but more than that, the bonding was even better. My family sitting together with my girlfriend, exchanging taunts and bullying each other was a remarkable thing to see. Photos were taken as evidence that yes, all of us co-existed harmoniously. I am looking forward to getting those pictures back and adding it to our family photo album.
The weekend seems so short. All the good things in life seem that way. Here we are on the red eye flight back to North Carolina. The weekend flew by so fast that I think I am still surprised at how we managed to pull off the weekend visit. Usually, my mom seems a bit sadder whenever I fly back home with Hilarie, but this time was different. This time it was different, it was my father. He gave me a long hug as if I lived on the other side of the planet. I think it’s one of those things that a father and a son would never fully express in words. I miss him and I know that he misses me. He probably would not go out there and say it explicitly as that but his hug said everything that his words did not. As I finish this up and look forward to the next two hours of peaceful sleep that I can get, I am simply thankful for the weekend. Despite how fast it was, or how much it makes me miss my family more, it was a great opportunity to bond and share a tradition with them. So I won’t sulk and wish I had more hours, I will simply look forward to the next time I see them again. Plus, I have tomorrow morning to look forward to, waking up next to her again.
Superbowl Sunday is a tradition in our house. Once the game is on, everybody is glued to the TV. There are no rules as to where one should sit or what one should eat. Food is already prepared that morning and if there is something that you might want that is not out there on the kitchen counter, you are more than free to raid the fridge and the pantry. The women are no exception to this tradition. In fact, the women in my family love football. Okay, I won’t go as far as saying the word love but they really do like it. Even though my mom is not as familiar with the rules, she still enjoys the game and cheers every time her team (which she usually determines by their jersey colors) makes it to the other side of the field. Hilarie is no foreigner to the game. With 3 brothers of her own, she was accustomed to the cheering and yelling this afternoon.
The game was great, but more than that, the bonding was even better. My family sitting together with my girlfriend, exchanging taunts and bullying each other was a remarkable thing to see. Photos were taken as evidence that yes, all of us co-existed harmoniously. I am looking forward to getting those pictures back and adding it to our family photo album.
The weekend seems so short. All the good things in life seem that way. Here we are on the red eye flight back to North Carolina. The weekend flew by so fast that I think I am still surprised at how we managed to pull off the weekend visit. Usually, my mom seems a bit sadder whenever I fly back home with Hilarie, but this time was different. This time it was different, it was my father. He gave me a long hug as if I lived on the other side of the planet. I think it’s one of those things that a father and a son would never fully express in words. I miss him and I know that he misses me. He probably would not go out there and say it explicitly as that but his hug said everything that his words did not. As I finish this up and look forward to the next two hours of peaceful sleep that I can get, I am simply thankful for the weekend. Despite how fast it was, or how much it makes me miss my family more, it was a great opportunity to bond and share a tradition with them. So I won’t sulk and wish I had more hours, I will simply look forward to the next time I see them again. Plus, I have tomorrow morning to look forward to, waking up next to her again.