Starry Starry Night

Exhausted after an amazing week in Florida

A day of unpacking.
A day of laundry.
A trip to Shop Rite to stock up.
I miss Delmy.
I need a vacation to recover from my vacation.

Norman, on the other hand, woke up early yesterday. He grumbled about it being cold in New Jersey and went to the club. My husband spent a full day of doing normal stuff and played poker at night. It was just another Wednesday in his life, unfazed by a week of warmth and friends. How does it he do it? My Fitbit vibrated just from climbing up and down the stairs in my house unpacking and I'm still not ready to resume my regular life.

There were two flights home to Newark when we arrived at Palm Beach International Airport on Tuesday. Our luggage enjoyed a trip home on the first plane and we had seats on the second plane. (I wasn't too concerned. My blue luggage was filled with dirty laundry. If someone wanted it, they could have it.)

People take a plane to get from point A to point B. Period. Most are not interested in how that happens or they are too drugged up to imagine how they could be traveling in a metal tank in the sky. A few strong drinks or a Xanax does a great job of blurring it all. Beam me up, Scotty.

Since retiring, I have been trying to appreciate the time I am gifted with each day and to be present in the moment. I am not just getting from point A to point B. I am creating my very own point B. The process interests me, the journey is exciting... and that includes a very magical plane ride connecting one world to another.

I'm sure I have flown in the dark before, but the stars in the sky took my breath away this time. Our plane was pretty empty and we were able to spread out, allowing me to slide over to a window seat and enjoy the most magnificent view. Millions of stars glittered through my window. Constellations made connect-the-dot pictures for anyone who knows about that sort of thing. I saw stars lined up in possible arrangements everywhere I looked. In those couple of hours, I was closer to heaven and closer to my mom. It was magical. It was brilliant. It was the vision of Vincent van Gogh.

If I craned my neck far enough, there were earth lights peeking through the clouds below us, competing in brilliance with the stars above. Clusters of cities and busy highways showed signs of life on the planet, but I was more enthralled with the stars in the night sky. There's got to be more than we understand to this life. And because I did not have a drink or a Xanax, I have clear memories of that vision screaming out to be created as art someday.

Today is a pretty autumn day in New Jersey. Separated by a mere 2 1/2 hour plane ride, the paths we travel on the ground look startlingly different. In Marlboro, the trails are colorful and rustling with leaves. In West Palm Beach, little lizards dance across the path as fast as a New Jersey squirrel. I love both towns and I love both seasons. The sun shines beautifully over both places.

I also love my family and want to stay close to my children. I just hate shoveling. Now that I saw the warm and beautiful home of our friend, David, it's not hard to consider a new possible point B to our journey.

As long as I can take everyone with me.