He Was Right. . .

Several weeks ago Chad told me he would likely be working on Saturday the 21st (this past Saturday).  I won’t lie, even though they are rare, I’m not a fan of his Saturday work days.  He works such long, hard hours all week, I count the hours until we are all together during the weekend.  As Saturday neared I did everything I could to plead my case and cite my reasons as to why he should not work on Saturday.  (I should have been a lawyer).  It seems I wore him down.

Thursday night Chad told me that he was, in fact, not working on Saturday and he had never planned to.  His plan, he explained, was to surprise me Friday with a little get-a-way to spend the weekend with my Dad.  My persistent whining pleading finally wore him down until he revealed his surprise a day early. 

Let’s just say my reaction was likely not what he anticipated. . .

What?!  I don’t want to go away!  I don’t want to leave you and the kids.  I feel guilty leaving.  I didn’t ask for this. . . . I went further but I will spare you in an attempt to save my own face.  Let’s just say my husband is a saint to not have blown up at me.  Chad explained that a little get away will be good for me.  You’ve been so tired. . . you need some time to just relax, hang out, rest, and be with your Dad.  He said more, but I didn’t really hear through the glare I was giving him.  Still, I relented and decided to go.

Truth is, that mom-guilt thing kicked in immediately.  What will I miss by being gone?  Mom shouldn’t need a break.  I can handle this.  I’m fine.  Blah, blah, blah. . . he gave me little choice. . . Friday afternoon I loaded up the car, tore a crying Chanelle off my leg, blew kisses through tears and was on my way to my to see my Dad. 

Let’s just say that the trip didn’t start out right.  After hitting an obnoxious detour there was a click on the dashboard and I looked down and saw this. . .

Really?! This is not going well.  I was in the middle of nowhere and I knew there was not a gas station for quite awhile.  I called Chad and my Dad to let them know that I may need someone to rescue me.  As soon as I heard my Dad’s voice on the other end I knew that this is exactly what I needed.  Suddenly, I couldn’t get there fast enough and my feelings of guilt, sadness, and doubt about leaving melted away. 

I hate it when Chad is right. 

Truth is. . . more than my car was on empty.  Even though I wasn’t aware, my tank was nearing “E”, as well.  None of us can keep going at full speed without crashing at some point.  What Chad knows about me is that unless I am removed from my surroundings I will continue to run at full speed.  He took matters into his own hands and insisted that I go.

Seriously, I married a good, good man. 

Friday evening I arrived to my destination. . .

. . . my Dad’s boat.  I was greeted with a smile and hug from the guy that has known me since birth. 

Let me tell you, it is impossible not to chill here.  The soft ripples of the water, the sing-song gusts of winds, the nature that comes alive all around. . . somehow, without even trying, everything is put into perspective.

For two days I sat with my Dad.  I talked.  He talked.  He listened.  I listened.  We drank coffee, we ate meals, we perused the mall, we laughed, we watched Close Encounters of The Third Kind.  We reminisced about old memories and, most importantly, we made new ones.  Somehow, we did very little and still the day was full. Suddenly, the sun dipped below the horizon and I found myself wondering, where did the time go?

After grabbing breakfast in a packed diner with my Dad this morning and exchanging a quick (so as to not let my typical departure tears fall) hug, he went his way and I went mine.  As I made the almost two hour drive home my heart over-flowed with thankfulness.  Believe me, I know what I have in these men is a gift.  Thoughts like how did I get here?  How am I so blessed?  are abundant.  I often wish these guys would write books. . . How to be a Great Dad or How to be a Great Husband.  They have so much to offer.  What I know, though, is that my Dad and Chad would have little to say.  The reality is, they don’t say much. . . they just do it. 

As I was driving home this morning I looked down at my dashboard and smiled at the “E” of Friday.  Today is so much different. 

Note:  I was not driving when I took this photo. . . hence, the seat belt indicator.

In more ways than one. . . my tank is on “FULL”. 

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***And for those who are wondering. . . yes, upon returning home I admitted to Chad that I was wrong,  acknowledged that he was right and waited for the “I told you so”.  And you know what?  It never came.

Thank you, Chad, for this special weekend with my Dad.  I needed it.