How I Wish You Were Here

I am watching the flight tracker. The little orange plane moves in tiny little increments closer to its destination which is NY, NY. I will breathe a sigh of relief once the status changes from "in flight" to "landed", knowing full well that there will be two more orange planes to observe until I can hop in the car and drive to the airport. This will not happen until tonight, earliest, if all goes well and no connection is missed. It's not even lunch time yet.

How I wish you were here...

As the saying goes: "Absence makes the heart grow fonder" and I guess it's true. Having to rely on Skype again just to talk about the day is harder than I thought, especially since Skype, which has performed flawlessly, returns to the old ways of interrupted phone calls, garbled roboto voices and to spite us doesn't even want to give us the chance to see each other on the webcam.

I wanted to say how I missed him in so many ways, some mundane, some more profound, but all I managed to talk about was the dog, the cats, the weather!!! But now he is on his way home and the hours stretch endlessly until I get to pick him up. Thus far I have managed to drink far too much coffee, to walk the dog, to feed her and the relentless kittens, to pick up stuff, to look at the newspaper, to google EVERYTHING. Then, to pass time I picked up my trusted Breedlove, a gift from him so I finally would have a great guitar with a lovely sound instead of my pawn shop special Ovation. You'd think that would be the perfect thing to do on a cold and gray, not very springlike day. And it felt right until I came across some of the songs we played at our last performance.

How I wish you were here...
All went well until the chorus when I realized that it just won't sound the same when you find yourself singing the harmony with the lead missing.

I was o.k. walking the dog at 2 a.m. in the morning, during a thunderstorm and I reprogrammed the weather radio when it would not function properly anymore, even found it very handy to look at the instruction manual on my iPad instead of looking for the paper version as I normally would have. I updated all my software and fixed ensuing problems, all by myself, when I usually would have just called for my trusted tech support. I built the cat condo, alone, even though the instructions suggested that it would work better with two people building. I recorded some TV programs, just because I could and to prove that I am still mistress of the remote. All these little things that he normally does, I did them and felt weirdly, oddly proud.

That is, until I picked up the guitar. It was a mistake.

And now, I just want to have him home. He is moving ever so much closer but still he seems so far away.
When I see him I will talk about the dog, the cats and the weather. I might mention the weather radio and all my other ventures.
But when I pick up the guitar and his voice joins mine I will tell him that I missed him.  
And he will understand, as always.
How I wish you were here.