I am not much of a drinker.
On our recent trip to Cabo San Lucas I became famous as the Virgin Woman. I drank, maybe, twelve, fifteen virgin daquiri's a day. Every now and then I'd have the rum but you get the picture. Not a big drinker.
Which worries me.
This is my second "chick cocktail" here at the Red Rocks Bar, the second in, oh, about twenty minutes. I did ask her to put less rum in this second one. Drinking is supposed to be good for writers. Or at least good for writing. I've never tried it. But this is tonight and I need a drink. Or two.
Less than twenty-four hours ago I thought I was saying goodbye and leaving my daughter in Minneapolis to come home >> tomorrow night. Then I looked at my calendar. Shit! I was leaving today. You have no idea how much of a mess that made of me, to lose a day with Kaia. We had no plans for today but we have a good time hanging out. Maybe we would have gone to pick up her bike. I would have watched her play soccer with her buds --- the pick-up international team at Macalester to which she is an honorable, if unusual, member. Blonde. American. And female. But she does great and it would have been such fun to watch.
Alas, I looked at my damn calendar. Send Dave a text message, "Am I coming home tomorrow???" "Yes, at 7:20." I found the Frontier confirmation email and sure enough. way more than the twenty-four hours felt taken. When you're with your kid you just never know what great wisdom, what wonderful insight, what hilarious tidbit you're going to get. But I sobbed for a half hour, I think she cried a little too, and we made the most of today.
Cuz that's all we ever get. For sure. And it is not the big fireworks moments necessarily that are the best --- although Rachmaninov and the massages and the red toenails were right up there --- but the little ones. The kind words, the small gestures. The living of the days.
I'm in Denver now. Closing down the Red Rocks Bar.
And. Waiting for another surprise. Annika!
How can I lose? Leave one daughter only to find the other one flying in from Phoenix. Not a bad thing.
I just gave the server a 30 percent tip. And it's not the rum talking.
Life is good.
Sometimes very sad. I'll miss my girl like crazy.
But, here, right here, right now, is my girl.
Kaia and Annika, you two are the best.
Let's close this place down.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Spa Paradise
We have had it!
A week of spa paradise. Massages with hot stones and warm oils. Chocolates with almonds. Foot wraps and whirlpools. Special work on chakra's, energy work, my friend calls it. Floating in a pool like a primal being. Steak. Salmon. Pasta. Fine wines. Working out on the fitness equipment in the gym (a little Utah Jazz eye candy didn't seem to hurt). Water. Sleep. Our cosmetics arranged geometrically on the marble counter,complete with hair tie perfectly surrounding the toothpaste tube. Room service. Beaudouin the doorman who made us feel completely at home. And the goldfish.
Rachmaninov's Second Symphony, carrot cake and more carrot cake. And wonderful music in the room. And great books to read. And some basketball to check on.
One could not live in such delicious pampering forever (though if they ever need volunteers...) but what a privelege to spend a week with Kaia making sure that she was detoxed and destressed and detached from the cares of life. No broken bones to see, no intubations, no heart-wrenching family dramas in the ER where she works.
"It's all about you" said the flyer she received and I think it was.
This is not decadence. It is not over-indulgence. It is attention. Loving, attentive care. Relief. Release. An honoring of our physical beings who work so hard for us. A giving back.
I learned a few hours after the Japanese earthquake that my Japanese friend was having a massage when the "big one" hit. She got on the floor under the table. She is now thinking of priveliege in terms of having enough toilet paper. And Spam. I'm going to catapult the Spam over and she stocked up at Costco.
Life is so weird. One minute we are luxuriating in a heavenly massage. Next moment, we are collecting iodine tablets. That's the way it works, the way it goes.
What I have learned is that I will lie on the massage table when I am able and leave the burrowing under it for the moment when that too is called for. I will ask for what I need and not hold back.
I will swing for the lines. Aim at the edges. The lines are there to be hit. That's where life is.
I don't want to not hear about what is 'out there' because of course it is beyond my reach. Are you kidding? I want to hear about it all, know about it all. Imagine, vision, ask, try. Aim for the lines.
Thank you, Kaia, for being my spa buddy, for inspiring this in the first place, for being so wonderful that I would want to spend a whole week pampering and treating you to what feels and is and definitely right.
Geez, am I lucky or what?
Lucky.
A week of spa paradise. Massages with hot stones and warm oils. Chocolates with almonds. Foot wraps and whirlpools. Special work on chakra's, energy work, my friend calls it. Floating in a pool like a primal being. Steak. Salmon. Pasta. Fine wines. Working out on the fitness equipment in the gym (a little Utah Jazz eye candy didn't seem to hurt). Water. Sleep. Our cosmetics arranged geometrically on the marble counter,complete with hair tie perfectly surrounding the toothpaste tube. Room service. Beaudouin the doorman who made us feel completely at home. And the goldfish.
Rachmaninov's Second Symphony, carrot cake and more carrot cake. And wonderful music in the room. And great books to read. And some basketball to check on.
One could not live in such delicious pampering forever (though if they ever need volunteers...) but what a privelege to spend a week with Kaia making sure that she was detoxed and destressed and detached from the cares of life. No broken bones to see, no intubations, no heart-wrenching family dramas in the ER where she works.
"It's all about you" said the flyer she received and I think it was.
This is not decadence. It is not over-indulgence. It is attention. Loving, attentive care. Relief. Release. An honoring of our physical beings who work so hard for us. A giving back.
I learned a few hours after the Japanese earthquake that my Japanese friend was having a massage when the "big one" hit. She got on the floor under the table. She is now thinking of priveliege in terms of having enough toilet paper. And Spam. I'm going to catapult the Spam over and she stocked up at Costco.
Life is so weird. One minute we are luxuriating in a heavenly massage. Next moment, we are collecting iodine tablets. That's the way it works, the way it goes.
What I have learned is that I will lie on the massage table when I am able and leave the burrowing under it for the moment when that too is called for. I will ask for what I need and not hold back.
I will swing for the lines. Aim at the edges. The lines are there to be hit. That's where life is.
I don't want to not hear about what is 'out there' because of course it is beyond my reach. Are you kidding? I want to hear about it all, know about it all. Imagine, vision, ask, try. Aim for the lines.
Thank you, Kaia, for being my spa buddy, for inspiring this in the first place, for being so wonderful that I would want to spend a whole week pampering and treating you to what feels and is and definitely right.
Geez, am I lucky or what?
Lucky.
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