“Peanut butter.”
My husband and I were holding hands as we strolled through the hotel lobby. A small A-board was positioned in the entry way to guide hotel guests to an event on one of the upper floors. As my husband and I approached the board, we unlocked our joined hands and stepped apart briefly to avoid taking out the signage.
“Peanut butter,” I said. It’s a simple phrase I utter every time something comes between us while we are walking. Sometimes it is another pedestrian. Often times it’s a sign or a pole. It’s what comes between us like spread between two pieces of bread that ultimately get smooshed together – stronger than before.
Peanut butter.
The two of us have had a lot of peanut butter in our lives. He has been laid out with a horrible cold and hacking cough for about ten days. This resulted in low energy and a deep need to hibernate during one of the busiest times of the year. Not to mention, he’s trying to do a few home fix-it projects on cold medicine.
I have been working long hours, at company holiday gatherings, cleaning the suite for my visiting mother and prepping to move from one job into another . . . again, during the busiest time of the year.
My husband and I have come together rather infrequently. Our topics of conversations have centered around whether or not the cat has been fed today or if the mail has been retrieved.
That came to an end when we packed up the car and headed out on the road to our holiday destination. The holiday craziness was done. We didn’t have to vaccuum up cat hair. I wasn’t preheating the oven at o-dark:thirty to bake cookies. He wasn’t drilling into our concrete stairs to fix an outdoor lighting situation.
Just my husband and I in the car with holiday tunes. Connecting. Back together.
Peanut butter.
We were pulled apart, disconnected but have comeback together after our lives have pulled us apart.
And maybe that’s the key staple to life. It’s not what pulls us apart that matters in the long run — but the coming back together after the obstacle has passed.
Weegee Sachtjen 