My Full Heart (for three days)

Since I hit the road, I’ve blogged philosophically about my rare visits with Finn. After we part and I sit down with my photos, I get all emotional and start feeling sorry for myself that I don’t see him as much as I thought I would—and not nearly as much as I want to.

Right now, his early-morning flight is taking off from Brownsville, and I’m back in bed feeling like my heart is breaking under the weight of emotions and hormones. So, I’m not going to write that kind of post this time. I’m going to stick to the facts, m’am.

Not Three. Four’s a Crowd in the Trailer

I was a little concerned about Tracy, Finn, and me living in the trailer for five nights, seeing as how:

• Tracy and I have never had someone inside with us for more than, like, an hour;
• we have the dance down pat that allows us to walk, cook, reach for things in the trailer without injury, but ya gotta learn that dance;
• Finn is 6’1” I believe.

Turns out Finn did great. He saw quickly that you can’t stand around inside; you have to pick a spot to sit, then stay there. He knew when to ask for help finding things (okay, every time) since we have special spaces for everything, even in the fridge. On and on he learned the ropes for sharing space and was a pleasure to have in my weird little home.

The problem person turned out to be—you guessed it—Banjo.

To give us all privacy at night, we slid closed the two accordion-style doors that separate the bathroom from the back bedroom and from the living area where Finn slept (the doors when closed are in red).

Banjo basically ignored them, walking right through during the night to check on Finn or to sleep under the dinette or to roam at will. So far I’ve been able to reattach one of them to the track in the ceiling, but I haven’t tried the other. Banjo!

Beach Goal Met

Finn’s been so busy with his doctorate requirements that he had only one request while he was here. The first day he was here, the wind broke enough for us to drive out past SpaceX (where, we discovered, a friend of his works) to Boca Chica Beach.

The water was cold, and being New Years’ Day there were people within sight, but who the heck cares when you haven’t seen or heard water or felt sand in ages.

We ate a picnic lunch, Tracy surf fished, Banjo got sandy, and Finn and I walked.

We walked until Finn’s phone piped up, “Welcome to Mexico!”

We hadn’t swum the Rio Grande; our phones were just pinging cell towers in Mexico. But that logic didn’t keep us from looking up in alarm to see where the hell we were, suddenly. He’s traveled internationally a handful of times, but I bet this was his first accidental border crossing (for a split second in our minds, at least).

Van Gogh Needs Airplane Blankets

Before Finn’s flight to me was delayed a day and I realized how much he needed downtime, I booked us tickets to the Van Gogh Immersive Experience exhibit in McAllen. Actually, I’m not sure what this was called, since we didn’t use VR goggles, but it was pretty damn cool.

I have a kazillion photos and videos, but you’ve probably seen those from friends or around the internet, so I’ll keep the description and shots to a minimum.

If you wanna see all my photos or hear about it, ping me and I’ll share a link to a photo album and talk your ear off. (Was that joke in bad taste?)

We both were fascinated by so much of it, but among a few small complaints we agreed on was a honking big one. It was cold in the convention center. After an hour, I was shivering.

We would have stayed twice as long if they’d handed out airline blankets at the entrance. Seriously.

If you haven’t been yet (I think nearly everyone else has), I do recommend it. Wear a sweater.

Neil Young, Star Trek, Exploding Kittens

Our downtime we filled too quickly. We walked around the mobile home park and down the bike trail. We walked to a taco place and mangled our request in Spanish for anything on the menu with no meat (the young man who eventually put his English-speaking sister on his phone for us said, “salad” several times with a chuckle).

Finn helped me learn on the uke, “Cowgirl in the Sand” and “Like a Hurricane” with his perpetual patience and good nature. We played several funky card games I’d bought for Christmas, including “Taco Cat Goat Cheese Pizza,” which I don’t recommend playing at a table with full margarita glasses on it.

And we watched the hell out of Star Trek. If we hadn’t, Tracy would have had to check us for alien identity transference or something like that. We don’t have matching Star Fleet communicator badge tattoos for nothing.

We don’t use them often enough, however.

I said I would not get all maudlin, so I’ll stop there. But, if I can wait to see him again in May when we drive through Michigan, I’ll be surprised. He’s the most <insert all positive characteristics that I’m not listing so as to stick to my promise above> person I know, and he happens to be my son, and I miss him already.

Seeing as how I won’t go all compliment-y on Finn, feel free to go for it in the comments here if you’re so inclined. It would do my heavy heart good.