Peleke is out of the country at the moment. I miss him, but it seems silly. I mean, if we had ever lived in the same state, let alone city (boarding school doesn't count here), it would be perfectly understandable. But we've never had that luxury. Our times together have been during trips, vacations really, to see each other. The rest of the time we've had email, instant messaging, phone, and more recently iChat. So our daily conversations have gone from three hours to thirty minutes on a sat phone, and it feels dramatic to say I miss him. But I do- I miss him.
Anyway.
So here we are Back Home Again in Indiana (I guess it's not "back" for The Beast, but at least it is for me). It's nice to be here during all this because I'm still trying to process everything. Sometimes I forget I'm more than just a brain and have to remind myself to do something with my body instead of just standing there thinking. It's all good changes, I'm just not sure how to, well, process. What is "processing" anyway? The most relevant definition I can find indicates that it means to handle by systematically organizing, recording, or making notations on something and then following up with appropriate action. I'm pretty sure that any way you cut it, relocating abruptly sans job three thousand miles away (with a stop in a completely different geographic region to get married) is a lot to process. I feel like my world just got turned on its head- but in a very cool way! So yeah, it's nice to be home :)
So now the challenge I have is creating a routine. It may not sound like much of a challenge to you, but it's something I battle with constantly. My sleep is out of whack, but at least I've started running again. Ran at least fifteen miles this week. While it's nothing to brag about, I'm still proud of myself. Plus the last two were six miles at a time to the local arboretum along some county roads with the dog. When I'm exploring running routes for the first time, I feel like I'm starting out on a little adventure because I can go in any direction for as far as my body will take me. It's a good feeling. And from the running perspective you see things that you wouldn't in the car.
For example, I drowned it out with music for the first mile, but then I realized I wasn't surrounded by silence but instead by birds singing- lots of them. And robins! I saw no fewer than ten robins on somebody's front lawn! If they had been any other bird than robins it would have been sort of creepy, but it was cute. I think they brainwash you when you're little with pictures of cute robins pulling worms out of the grass and equate it with spring- who doesn't love that? And then I started paying more attention- except to the roadkill. I avoid looking at those if I can. Seriously though, that's the hallmark sign of spring here in the Midwest- roadkill. As long as I don't think too much about it (the cute woodland creatures being smooshed), it's kind of funny.
Evidence of the non-smooshed kind was in abundance at the arboretum. There's a winding driveway of sorts from the county road to the visitors center that has streams in the woods on either side. Jogging down the initial dip in the drive, I noticed muddy hoof prints crossing. Deer? And further down I saw muddy hand-like prints. Raccoon? Then there were muddy prints of a smaller kind. Whatever it was definitely scurried. Mink maybe? It wasn't until I had nearly run past him that I noticed a squirrel watching me from a roadside leaf pile. He must have been contemplating the prints too, and I made a mental note to ask him what he thought on my way back out.
It had been nearly three months to the day since I was last at the arboretum. You'd hardly recognize it with all the flowers peeking out and trees turning colors with their buds. Peleke and I were there in late December when it was about five degrees out and everything was covered in a thick coat of ice. We came to make s'mores and spent hours that short winter afternoon alternating sides by the outdoor fireplace. One side would get blistering hot from the fire while the exposed side froze. It was tricky.
Peleke and I didn't date each other, and we've never actually been on a date. That snowy afternoon at the arboretum was the closest we came, though. I wasn't sure how he was feeling, but I was quickly realizing where I wanted to stand in his eyes. I loved how the conversations ebbed and flowed and how easy it was to laugh with him. As we got ready to leave and hugged, I tried to freeze frame (ha, no pun intended) the moment. I wish everybody could experience that, and it's one of the things I'm looking forward to most. The fireplace is surrounded by springtime now.
Leaving there this morning on the homeward leg, I felt his absence even more. Yeah, I miss him.
Oh man, Wendy. You're pretty amazing.
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