Fuel

Whirlwind day... that started at 3:00 a.m. There were good reasons for the wee hours wake-up call. In Texas, a forecast that so much as hints of snow or rain causes a run on the grocery for milk and bread. Those two items were at the top of my grocery list, so I rolled out of bed to shower and dress at dark o'clock. Running to the 24 hour market while the mister showered knowing that I prefer not to slide around on the roads drive in potentially icy conditions meant a cart full of the odds and ends that would make meals out of the sundry items in the pantry. Stops on the way home saw the car filled up with gas and donuts for the girls' breakfast in our absence. Finally, the car pulled up at home to unload the groceries and hit the road while the sky was still dark.
While saner people were snoozing snug in their beds, the two of us followed one highway until it met another taking us south. I pulled up our son's new address on my phone and watched as the blue dot that was our vehicle move in slow blips toward the red dot in it's unfamiliar location. Just after 9:00, we were sharing hugs with our Boy for the first time since December. The two hour visit passed quickly, and we departed too soon freeing up space for other visitors shuffling into the sterility of the communal space. We were fortunate to see him because he expects to move from his orientation on to a new location anytime after Tuesday. Again the reality of the unknown with the bonus of a roadside stop involving a sodium-soaked chicken sandwich with a side of greasy tater tots. And an ice cream cone.
Freed up from the tyranny of the grocery list (and a little sorry about the lunch choices and the leftover donut eaten on returning home before topping it off with a taste of ), a nap was in order once we made it back home. The mister nudged me back into consciousness just after 5:00 in the evening. Which was great, except that I had a meal to deliver between 5:30 and 6:00 for our recently bereaved friends, and the manicotti needed to bake for 45 minutes. Rushing down the stairs to pop the stuffed pasta shells into the oven, it was a race to get the salad fixings washed and prepped. Tossing everything into a bowl, the sudden knowledge of an item left off the grocery list carried the mister out the door while the crazed veggie slicing continued. He came through the door in time for the bread to go in the oven while the mozzarella slices were layered with the tomatoes sprinkled liberally with basil. The (teasing) text came across at 5 after 6:00, "Where's our food?"
I called Lisa to inform her that her food was coming on Holly Time. Explaining about how the family's dinner fell behind because I was napping in the Land That Time Forgot, I promised we would be there soon. Only to realize there was no dessert. "Um. How important is dessert?" She informed me that someone making a condolence call had just dropped off the mother of all goody trays from a local bakery. Perfect. The dinner could be there in about ten minutes since there was no stopping to pick up a ready-made treat to top off the meal. Don and I drove over together since he had yet to make his condolence call.
We'd covered hundreds of miles to love on those dear to us over the course of the day. On our way home, the low fuel light lit up. We covered over 300 miles in the space of 13 hours seeing the sun rise from inside the car and remarking on the clouds coming in as it set with the pair of us again going down the road away from home. The car was running on fumes, but we were far from running on empty considering the blessing of so many loved ones with which we share our lives.