It's 6 AM, I've been up for an hour, and I'm trying to decide whether to go back to bed for a while. Shawn and the boys got up at 5 AM to go hunting. I like (technically, like would not be the most accurate word choice here) to get up with them and send them off into the cold with a belly fully of warmth. Oatmeal is a good one to sneak in on a morning like this because when you get up voluntarily at 5 AM to fix someone breakfast, they're not likely to complain about what you fix them. If they do, they can expect to get meatloaf for dinner. And meatloaf for breakfast tomorrow.
So while I'm mulling over my to-do list that rivals Santa's this time of year, I thought I'd pop in for a minute and post a blog update. It will allow me to cross a couple of things off this to do list that has me chewing my fingernails.
First on the agenda, if I owe you a package, it's going in the mail today. There's a stack of them sitting by the front door right now.
Second, I wanted to share something Will said the other day. A little (I just re-read and it's a little more than a little) background first. I've said for a long time that if something were to happen to Shawn and he died, I will not get married again. I have a list of reasons, some of which are so general, most people would debate me on in a heartbeat and tell me I'm being silly such as I can't imagine myself ever being able to connect so completely with anyone else. Or where will I ever find another man who can do absolutely anything manly in the world (except drywall) and be my personal organizer and my shrink and teach my kids to be honorable men and and make World Class Chili and always throw away his toenail clippings and have a really nice bald head and, and, and. . . Other reasons are much more personal and emotionally intimate, territory where people would be less likely challenge that I'd need to just get over it and move on. So I stand my ground, I will not get married again.
It's a running joke between Shawn and me. He teases and says I'd be remarried in 3 weeks. And he challenges the personal and emotionally intimate territory I offer as rebuttal. Then we always end up at my Hamburger List.
We have an elderly gentleman friend who hangs out at the race track where Caelan races during the summer months. He's a single man, no kids. But he adores kids, thus the reason he does something completely crazy like hang out at a race track until midnight when others his age have already been in bed long enough to get the equivalent of a full-night's sleep. Cap is always cutting it up, telling old man jokes and loving life in spite of his hearing loss and aches and pains.
One night I looked across the track and saw Cap talking with an older lady. When I caught up with him later, I teased him and asked, "So were you trying to hook up?" He laughed and said, "Dear, at my age I'd rather just have a good hamburger." And there was born my hamburger list. Cap would settle for a good hamburger. If Shawn were to die, I don't want to remarry but I sure don't want to sit alone eating hamburgers. I want to be surrounded by interesting people, other people who love life. So I have my Hamburger List with some of my favorite people already on it.
The prospect of what would happen if Shawn died came up again a few days ago and we started our argument. He looked at Will and said, "If Dad died, who should Mom marry?" Will said, "Hmmmm. I know! How about if Dad dies, when his spirit leaves his body to go up to heaven, we just grab it and pull it back down?" And that gets my vote for how to deal with the 'what-if' question that plagues me most in life.
