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Tuesday, September 16, 2008

You're Gonna Miss Me When I'm Gone

That's what The Boy keeps telling me, almost every day now, at least once a day.

He is going home on Saturday, to Western Pennsylvania (not to be confused with other parts of Pennsylvania-- he's very specific about that), to see family, to attend his oldest childhood friend's wedding reception, maybe to see the Hershey Car Show, amongst other things...and I am staying here.

Normally, I'm the one going off to places and having little adventures and he holds down the fort.

But this time, I'll be the one left behind...

And I ponder:

who will I make my famous scrambled eggs for, and who will praise me and say I am the Queen of Breakfasts;

who will do my laundry (nay, that same person who says you aren't allowed to touch the washer and dryer because you'll break them) and who will make my bed and put the freshly washed laundry at the foot of the bed;

who will read carefully chosen selections to me in the morning, laying in bed while I put on mascara and try to fix my hair and get ready for work, reading from a wide selection of authors that includes, but is not limited, to Tim Cahill, Garrison Keillor, John McPhee, Pauline Kael, Frank Rich, Howard Zinn, Mark Twain and Dave Barry;

who will entertain me with professorial-level dissertations on subjects including Stax Records, Roberto Clemente (his hero, and then there's the tangent on why I should learn to love baseball), EC Comics, the Beatles (and why he thinks Paul is the best Beatle and I have to disagree with him because I think George is); Le Mans auto racing, Joseph Duveen and Warren Buffett;

who will give me quick go-away-I'm-busy kisses, have-a-nice-day-at-work kisses, and tender, soft kisses that say I missed you so much today;

who never has a bad word to say about anyone and always gives people the benefit of the doubt (something I could improve on and learn from) and who always wakes up happy in the morning;

who can watch Harpo or Harold after a long, troublesome day and forget his worries;

who can sing like Elvis and tries to play the harmonica;

who will tell me that marauders silently and mysteriously break into our house in the middle of the night on a regular basis and eat our ice cream and that is why there's never any left for me;

who is like the personification of Calvin and Hobbes rolled into one person;

who will crank call me at work, favorite voices include a flaming gay man, Flip Wilson's Geraldine, or a Vietnamese person I cannot understand;

who does naughty things, and knows he's doing naughty things while he is doing them, and then immediately apologizes but in such a way that you have to laugh, and when all else fails flashes that big dimple in his right cheek;

who will alternately make me laugh so hard I either choke on my own saliva or bust into a coughing fit, or else make me so mad that I have to smack him in the arm, or both at the same time;

who will surprise me with special treats like these and these, or swing by after work and take me for a ride;

who I tuck in at night and kiss on the forehead because he always falls asleep before I do, and when I leave the room, calls out sleepily, no don't go, stay and cuddle with me;

who says to me tell me why you love me, tell me I'm the best. And I'm at a loss for words because I don't even know where to start.


Yes, buddy. I am gonna miss you when you're gone. I will miss you very, very much.

Vintage photo from old-picture.com

20 comments:

namastenancy September 16, 2008 at 10:13 PM  

With a love letter like that, he knows you love him very much and will miss him indeed.

me September 17, 2008 at 6:00 AM  

sigh...

you two...

(but gotta get rid of that stupid stanfurd sweatshirt!)

willow September 17, 2008 at 6:57 AM  

You are one VERY lucky girl.

Christina September 17, 2008 at 8:45 AM  

Awww... this is one of my most favorite post from you! I hope the boy reads it, maybe even prints it and keeps it close to his heart.

You are so lucky!

PS: the prank calls from my hub, are the highlight of my day.

; )

smith kaich jones September 17, 2008 at 8:55 AM  

YOU are right about George, but HE is right about baseball.

LOVE this post.

:) Debi

Elizabeth September 17, 2008 at 9:01 AM  

Now, TB, I am so glad I read this first thing this morning. Makes my day. Prank calls? That guy is a keeper!
XO
E

studio wellspring September 17, 2008 at 9:36 AM  

ahhh ~ what a dream boat for the perfect dream queen. :o) i know you'll miss him and so i'm hereby declaring myself your neighborhood happyiness girl ~ if you're feeling lonely or bored don't hesitate to call and i'll come a-runnin' with something fun to share.

Eilandkind September 17, 2008 at 9:54 AM  

wow, that is really beautiful, we all need a man who can calm us, comfort us, help us to be less emotional, to look at people with less critical eyes.
Thank you for this post, it put me in a dream like state.

P September 17, 2008 at 10:40 AM  

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh....so incredibly sweet. He sounds like a cutiepie.

Will you share your famous recipe for eggs? I love eggs.

Carol September 17, 2008 at 1:51 PM  

Such a sweet and touching post :-)

tangobaby September 17, 2008 at 3:31 PM  

Hi namastenancy,

I hope so...except he might just say "why don't you just tell me these things instead of writing them in your blog?!" I am so much better at writing things than saying them sometimes...

Hi me,

LOL. Getting The Boy out of his Stanford sweatshirt would be as fruitless as trying to remove spots from a giraffe. Besides, I like to wear those sweatshirts, too (even though I was not a student there). They are roomy and made out of very nice heavy cotton.

Hey, do I smell a whiff of CAL in this comment?

Hi willow,

Yeah, I know. I am lucky and spoiled.

Hi christina,

Your hubby crank calls you too? They are such BOYS, aren't they?! Don't worry, I'm sure The Boy will read it!

xoxo

Hi debi,

I am trying to like baseball. I think it's boring. I know I'm not supposed to say that. I like the bratwursts and I did see a very cool Rawlings video about how they make baseballs and catcher's mitts, but I'm still afraid of getting hit in the head by a foul ball.

I know. It's bad. But at least we agree on George!

Hi Elizabeth,

He is an original, to be sure. I was thinking of renting him out because he also gives great hugs.

You have a keeper, too!

xoxo

Hi ms. wellspring,

I know you'll be the first one over on the sofa. ;-) Anytime, just let me know.

Hi eilandkind,

I don't know if he can help me be less emotional (even though I'm sure he'd love it!) but his kindness and generosity is something I admire all the time. I'm glad you liked the post. He's even better in person!

;-)

Hi p,

He is part little devil and part sweetie pie. Sound familiar?

I can't say I really have a recipe. Rest assured that whatever I make that tastes good requires an inordinate amount of butter. I guess I just whip up the eggs, add a little bit of cream or half and half, a tiny bit of salt, and then don't stir them too much (or they get spongy). I also saute mushrooms first and then add the eggs, and throw in a little goat cheese and Herbes de provence if I have them.

Hi carol,

Thank you... ;-)

La Tanguera September 17, 2008 at 5:18 PM  

Oh my God, that was the sweetest thing. You are a lucky woman (and he is lucky man). ;)

Kath September 17, 2008 at 5:35 PM  

Isn't it perfect when it's perfect? I hear you on the laughing until you can't breathe and then you get mad part!
Beautiful post TB,
;-)

Relyn September 17, 2008 at 7:18 PM  

This one is my favorite
who will tell me that marauders silently and mysteriously break into our house in the middle of the night on a regular basis and eat our ice cream and that is why there's never any left for me;

Or maybe the Calvin and Hobbes one. Because together, those two would make just about the perfect man.

All that and a dimple, too? I'd say you found a man who is your match in every way.

I hope your time without him is filled with girlie adventures with friends like Swellspring & Dutchbaby. Lucky them. I wish I could come over for the sleepover.

dutchbaby September 18, 2008 at 8:37 AM  

A beautiful love letter about a beautiful love affair!

robin bird September 18, 2008 at 10:28 AM  

if i cam with relyn we could have a slumber party...! all i can see is the stanford sweatshirt and good hair and glasses...i wish i could see that dimple....

such a sweetly romantic post my dear :)
XO

p.s. i am also on my own for the next full week and although i miss him when he is gone i also love to be in charge of everything....like when to turn the lights out, when to open and close the curtains, eating cereal for dinner. important stuff like that :)

Mary-Laure September 18, 2008 at 1:10 PM  

Lovely, tender post. Beautifully written.

My Castle in Spain September 18, 2008 at 4:54 PM  

Did he read your love letter ?
so sweet ...(and you know what..my boyfriend is also going tomorrow...and i too was thinking : sniff..i won't cook for him for so long)

paris parfait September 19, 2008 at 5:02 AM  

Oh, what a wonderful love letter to the Boy! I've met him and can attest that he IS very charming and witty. But I didn't know he did all those lovely things for you. What a guy! (But then you deserve a great guy, after all). xoxox

tangobaby September 19, 2008 at 5:00 PM  

Hi La Tanguera,

And the truth is that it's all true. He's just got to be the most perfect friend for me. Tonight we are finishing his packing and he'll be gone early tomorrow morning. For a month. *sigh*

Hi kath,

Yes, the laughing part happens a lot (more than the mad part, which is good). He knows how to make me laugh, that's for sure.

Hi relyn,

When he talks about the marauders, he's very serious. You would almost think that they were real. And the dimple is enormous. Don't underestimate the power of the dimple.

I hope to have lots of fun girly times ahead to tell you about. But if you could be here, I would be over the MOON. We would have SO MUCH FUN. I have an extra bed...what do you say?

Hi dutchbaby,

It's a cuddly, playful love affair, to be sure. ;-)

Hi robin bird,

You have to understand that to The Boy, I am the paparazzi. He is not allowed to be captured on camera. This is all you will get, unfortunately. However, you should take my word on the dimple. It's to dimples what Cary Grant's cleft is to chin clefts.

Enjoy your time alone and be creative and play!

Hi Mary-Laure,

Thank you...this kind of just wrote itself.

Hi lala,

I don't think he read it yet...but I know he will. He's been getting ready for his trip and he'll be gone for a long time so that takes some effort. All of us girls alone! I wish we could all hang out and keep each other company.

Hi paris parfait,

You only saw just a tiny bit...but enough to give you an idea. I'm glad you two met!

xoxo