icecream, i scream.

This past week I put my baby (18 year old baby, that is) on the greyhound bus, off to another extended volleyball adventure. Something about seeing that greyhound bus drive away flipped me right into a tailspin of emptiness, feeling a sink hole deep in my mother heart. Before I knew it, and certainly before the bus was out of town, I found myself sitting in the DQ drive through with a large mint oreo blizzard in my hand. Where did that come from? Perhaps it was my feeble attempt to fill the sink hole in my heart with ice-cream. Predictably, the ice-cream didn’t fill my empty heart, but only the fat cells on my thighs. (My sister tells me she is taking out stock in DQ for this, my year of transition from emptying nest to emptied nest). A simple walk with a friend would have relieved the emptiness illusion much more effectively while strengthening, rather than fattening my thighs. I could have bypassed the DQ and gone straight to the hills for a walk. Remember, remember, sugar never was happiness nor was it love, nor was it relief from any of life’s challenges.