When I dropped my husband off at work this morning, it was a pretty heartbreaking scene. Like that sad bit in the Disney classic “The Fox and the Hound“, one of the more traumatizing cartoons from childhood.
If memory serves, there’s a scene where the old lady who had adopted the fox, takes him into the woods and leaves him there. The fox thinks they are going to a little forest jaunt, but she lets him get out of the vehicle first and then drives off.
She doesn’t want to do it, her hand was being forced. But it doesn’t make it hurt any less. Poor Ben, he was having such a nice holiday. Laughing, playing, swimming, gallivanting, traveling. We had a beautiful, fabulous time, visiting with family, feeling like children on an endless vacation. And now it is time to be the grown ups that we are, and go back to work.
And somehow, I’ve put out of my mind, the fact that I am starting a new job today. That this is the end of something for me as well. Not only is the holiday over, so are my luxurious days of writing for hours on end without any agenda or time constraints. Of course, I’m so excited to be looking into the future and seeing a number of amazing possibilities. But…as I drove away from my poor husband, who looked positively broken by how quickly time passes. I felt a little broken myself.
I couldn’t help but wish I could turn the car around, turn time back, and start all over again. But life doesn’t work that day…nor does time. One must be grateful for the good times, and let that be the fuel that drives you, when you go back to the monotony of boring old day-to-day life.