AND THEN WE ALL FELL DOWN
Cindy Maddera
Every time I take a trip to Oklahoma, I start panicking about not having enough time. There are so many people that I want to see and spend time with and there's never enough time. Never. I feel like I need to make an announcement before I head that way. Some sort of public service announcement or emergency broadcast: WARNING, I LOVE YOU ALL EVEN IF I DON'T GET TO SEE YOU THIS TRIP. Luckily this time (or not..I'm not sure), Amy kept me so busy with wedding preparations that I didn't have time to feel guilty. There was ribbon to be cut into 13 inch strips and holes to be punched and paper books and flowers to be strung. By the time we left the Duncan Public Library Saturday night, I was so tired I drove past Amy's house three times before I finally figured it all out. Actually, that pretty much sums up the entire weekend. I ended up repeating this when I left Duncan Sunday night for Mark and Misti's in Norman. The two of them just watched my little car drive back and forth. Finally Misti had mercy and called me while Mark walked out to the corner to flag me down. Every day ended with bleary eyed exhaustion, but good bleary eyed exhaustion. Because in between all of the cutting and taping and decorating, there was laughter. Amy, Deborah, and I were all together in one place which is something that hasn't happened in a really long time. It reminded me of those days before we had to be real grown-ups, before jobs and babies and deaths. And we laughed so dang much, even during those moments that moved us to tears (Batgirls don't cry!).
So I let myself squash down the guilt monster and I soaked up as much of all the time I had. I stored up all of laughter, all of the tears, and all of the words and stuffed them into those hollow places. They are there to sustain me until the next time. And I really can't wait until next time.