Familiar, "Familiar," and Fond Adieu to Rue

I'm sitting here on a Sunday morning listening to the church bells chiming their golden-toned hearts out a few blocks over from Younger Daughter's house. Her sweet big dog (half lab, half Golden) and my little blind-and-usually-deaf shih tzu are lolling around on the cool tile floor while I pound on the keyboard before heading out to lunch with she-who-should-be-my-sister-if-I-had-siblings. We'll call her Diane. Since 2008, she has lived half the year in Little Rock and half the year based out of Hong Kong while she accompanies her husband as he travels the Pacific Rim with his kinda complicated job.

And it struck me.

Dang. The last few days have been just about nearly perfect.

I have gotten to spend a lot of time with Diane as we prepared to co-host a pre-wedding party for another of our friends' child, had lunch with my Daddy (and will get to see him again before heading south tomorrow), enjoyed my children's company, drove short-cuts and traffic-avoiding routes by reflex, laughed until I couldn't breathe, and enjoyed visiting with a whole houseful of friends at the party at one time.

I got to live, albeit briefly, the little things we take for granted until we move far, far away from "everything familiar." Little things that we recognize we miss when we return to them, even after we've lived far, far away long enough for there to become "familiar."

There's nothing like becoming the friend of an adult child (although, giving up the role of unsolicited-advice-giver is a little tough and takes a lot of practice. I'm still trying to master that one). I've always been close to my kids, but becoming their confidante and drinking buddy, being among the first they think about inviting to go to a movie or shopping, and watching them become willing friends to my friends is nothing short of solid gold. But now I don't want to go home to the "new familiar."

Except -- the "new familiar" is where Pepper and Bouie are, and they still need me in addition to loving me. And it's really good to be needed, too.

(Well, and, I miss them, too, I guess.)

So, the past few days have been just about nearly perfect, except I didn't get to see the grandkids because they went to the beach with their Mom and another grandmother, and Rue McClanahan passed away.

Sweet dreams, Blanche. And stay out of the oil, little ones! Moogie will be heading back to the "new familiar" if you need her.