Continuing in my thoughtful mood, been thinking of the recently departed holiday. Yesterday morning was wonderful, brunch at daughters, opening presents...shades of little kids ripping open packages, barely seeing what they contained before moving on to the next one. Then a first for me. Rather than spend Christmas dinner with family, I went to my best friend's house to spend it with her family. "best friend" is sort of a wierd term to use when one is almost 52 years old...kinda like calling a significant other a "boyfriend", but that's what she is. I taught her two kids in preschool, and she was my aide for several years. Fond memories of her mouthing obscene words for me to include in the "letter of the week" brainstorming sessions with 5 year olds. She's the kind of friend I can call up on the way home and ask what's for supper. If she's cooking, she says come over, if not, then I'm on my own. The point is, I can call and she's there. Not being shy, I was one of the first to serve my plate. I went into the deserted living room, ate and watched the fire in the fireplace (like where else would the fire be) I sat there alone for maybe 5-10 minutes taking stock of how things change. It wasn't sad, it just was. I was warm, safe, surrounded by good people, and fed. What could be wrong?
I came home to argue with my stomach about the amount of rum I'd consumed. My side of the story is that since I was visiting, eating and generally not paying attention, I didn't realize how close the Captain and I had become. My stomach didn't care what the circumstances were. Then my brain had to get involved and reason with the stomach...keep a grip on things, we'll talk in the morning. Nothing horrible happened, just a little payback for the Captain. Woke with just a little regret nestled around my temples as a reminder that I'm way too old for such poor judgement.