Today is a not a happy day. It is a day filled with sadness. I listened to NPR’s coverage for hours and then it was abruptly over. I don’t know why I kept it on. It was an endless loop talking about panic and carnage. The shooter was identified and discussed. It was depressingly like the 9/11 coverage. And now there will be victims identified, there will be more vetting of the shooter and fingers pointed at federal agencies which did not arrest him or somehow detain him. It is just awful.
Tomorrow I leave for NY. For my annual summer sojourn. I know that this should make me happy and it does, really. But for me, and maybe for other individuals in similar situations, the time, it seems to begin slipping away from the moment I purchase our tickets. As soon as it gets close to the day we are going to leave, my brain starts to calculate how little time I have in NY until we have to return. Return for the start of 7th grade. To get back into the grind. To not see my family and friends for another year. It hard to embrace the time, and it is significant, the time. I think that the problem is that no time is enough. And that is the bottom line.
I live in Hawaii. And it is beautiful. And maybe because I have lived here for so long that I don’t see Hawaii any more sometimes. That I live here. And I work here. And I raise my kid here. And yes, the ocean is spectacular. And yes, the mountains are lovely. And yes, it never snows, at least not where I am. And all of those things are good. I can’t complain about those things.
Thing is, I’m from NY. My family is in NY. My best friends. And I see them once a year. I see them during this summer window. And that is it. So when I go home, it does not feel like a vacation. It feels more like a small amount of time being used to somehow cram in a year’s worth of living. This is not possible. It never is. And it almost always results in some bruised feelings. Some time that was supposed to be spent that ended up someplace else. It is a delicate dance and one that I am not good at.
So we leave tomorrow. We will arrive early Tuesday. We will likely stop at a diner somewhere near Sheepshead Bay. I will eat an omelet stuffed with spinach and feta cheese. It will be delicious but I will likely not be able to get rice with my eggs. But the clock will be ticking. Ticking away. From that time, all the way through. And I know that I should just be more grateful. And I try. But it is not easy.