Monday, August 19, 2013

Sisters And The Essence of Time

But we were together again and the whole world was rejoicing…

It was Wednesday, August 7th and I spent the entire day telling everyone how it was the “best day ever”. “Why?”, they would ask. “Well because my sister comes home tonight, obviously.” It was the same old anticipation that tiptoes up through my stomach and onto my face, landing right on my mouth where I can’t stop smiling, knowing that my best friend will soon be with me, for what always seems like way too short of a time.

It was 1:00am when I picked Jacy & Mike up from the airport. I didn’t even care that I was tired. And the drive down to Lowell and back didn’t bother me one bit, I was too busy laughing and hanging on to every word we said, because once those next 11 days passed, I wanted to remember everything, every joke, every funny story. She and I stopped for food at 2:30am, and I marveled over the fact that I’d never eaten at that place sober, but I was so glad I was because now I wouldn't forget a second of it.

Her trip home was great, as always. It was the same as every time we are all together. We drank too much. We ate too much. We shopped a lot, and we consumed a ton of coffee. We took long day trips to different states. We stayed up way too late. We laughed, we cried, we made memories and promises that I would go back to Nashville just as soon as I could, and we would figure out a way to make both of our lives better than ever before. After all, we are dreamers, and we are the best kind of dreamers around. And when two sister have a plan, they can't be stopped.

But just had I had suspected, those 11 days passed way too quickly, leaving me with the empty, too familiar question of how I would ever get through the rest of time without her here…until Christmas when we would be reunited, and I prayed, and I prayed again so hard that the time until December would fly…….but then I stopped and heard my father’s voice playing in my mind telling me, don’t ever wish your life away…. But sometimes, that’s easier said than done.
It was Sunday, August 18th at 4:45am when I woke up to drive them back to the airport. We promised we wouldn’t cry this time, and in typical Holly fashion, I pretended I was strong. I dropped them off, I waited until they were too far in the distance to see, and then, I cried. It's becoming a secret little ritual that no one sees, except me and my mirror that reminds me of the black mascara flooding down my face. I can't wait to get home, I thought, I hope this drive flies by....

But time is a crazy thing, you know. Sometimes you beg and plead and make little pacts with God that if he can just speed the months up so that you can get to where you want to be as fast as possible, everything will make sense. And other times, you clench your fists so tight asking that he just please slow the time down so that you can relish in every detail of the night, and you ask that the time between now and tomorrow would take as long as the time between now and the next time I’d be in Nashville, what sometimes seems like forever away.
Because after all, time is the longest distance between two places….