what a trip

There is never enough time, you guys.

Every moment has to be special, because there is no other choice. You will only get to see this person for one day or one hour or one conversation. You hope that you will get to have more time with them in the future but nobody can guarantee that. This could be it. You have to remember. You may never get this moment again. So you watch them fill up their coffee mug, or whine for more juice, or tell you the same story you've heard a hundred times and you cherish it because that may be all that you get.

...contorting into plastic chairs beneath the desert stars, stinging whiskey smoothing dusty throats, one over-stuffed topic to the next punctuated by the garbles from our haggard turkey companion...

...meandering through endless red mountains, random duets from my dad and uncle, stories of dubious veracity from past present, a/c on full blast a joke against the oven-like heat surrounding us...

...ensconced in the warmth and angles of sticky-sweet toddlers as they wiggle from one excitement to the next, catching ice cream on faces and hands, yielding to demands of "no, play with this one!", catching a familiar gesture or tone in miniature faces, learning the meaning of code brown...

...familiar hugs from faces who should have faded away but instead hold a permanent place in your heart, not time nor age nor internet scuffles lessening your love for them in any amount, their impact on your life immovable and unshakable...

...trying to hold back tears (and failing) as your grandmother tells her family how much she loves them and reminds us all that the only thing that matters is to be there for each other and love each other, that this trumps all distance or status or religion, and you believe it because it comes from her, because she is the embodiment of this philosophy, she is the one who pops up in your mind when you need to decide if what you are doing is right, she is the one whose door is always open, whose palms are always outstretched, who absolutely will pat your bum if it is within patting distance, and you can't hold the tears back because you have no way to know if this is the last time you will see her and you have to burn every second of this moment into your brain so you can hold onto it for as long as possible...

The visit was only four days and it wasn't nearly enough time to see everyone. All the love built up from the interactions I gleaned, is constantly being elbowed in the ribs by the regret from those I didn't have. And what if that's it? It keeps gnawing at my brain. You can't run enough, or pull enough weeds, or drink enough wine to escape that reality: that could be all that you get. So I must remember. Every moment is precious. Every moment is to be cherished. I am so grateful for the time that I have been given and must be diligent to snatch up the opportunities of the future. I look forward to them.