One of the best things about having grown children who have flown the coop is the freedom their father and I now have to drop everything, pack a bag, and head out of town. Our latest adventure was a quick four-day trip down to Kentucky to do some work on the lake home we are hoping to sell. We knew going in that this was not going to be a "vacation" but anytime I throw my clothes in a suitcase and check into a hotel (hello, Super 8) is a holiday to me.
An eight hour car ride (especially one without the radio) tells you a lot about your relationship. By the time we stopped for lunch, our conversations had already covered everything from our adorable grandson (okay, his antics kept us going for at least a hundred miles) to the nation's rising racial tensions. By the time we reached our destination, it was obvious that even after thirty-one years, we still had not run out of things to talk (or laugh) about.
For the next two days we raked, cut bushes, moved furniture, painted, sucked up endless varieties of bugs, and packed as many boxes as our humble SUV could handle. We also basked in the first really warm days of Spring, hung out at the local marina, chatted with our friendly neighbors, took a walk in the forest, ate Chinese, and shared a kiss under an impossibly starry sky.
Yep. Being an empty-nester has its moments.
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