I Left my Heart in San Francisco

It was kind of impromptu, and I had left Southern California 4 weeks prior, but when Rachel called and said there was a weekend to San Francisco in the works and would I be interested. I jumped in with two feet. I’d been a single parent for 8 weeks, packed up my family by myself and moved them a temporary location in Utah and was t-minus 14 days to moving half way across the world. I was tired and I was missing my friends terribly. A few days with my nearest and dearest sans children was just what I needed and who I am kidding, wanted.

We made a rookie mistake of hurrying to book our flights and booking them into different airports. Duh! So I rode the train solo, while the other three rode in the cushy town car and we met up at the condo. Our accommodations were perfect, looking right over the bay bridge and free! Mr. Murray was kind enough to lend his apartment for the weekend. It didn’t take us long to hit the streets and shops and to slip into the care free kid zone. Jenny made rookie mistake number 2 and wore her fancy shoes shopping. Happens to the best of us. We remedied the best way we knew how and just bought her some new shoes.

We spent the next few days lingering over our meals, laughing and commiserating over the blessing and burden of motherhood and offering opinions on denim.  We discussed how to wear eye liner, how to make our marriages and homes better places, how to best grip the trolley rail and how to find Union Square one more time.

Kim and I got our make-up done, Rachel and Jenny chastised us for not having a daily moisturizing routine, and we bought chotzky’s for the children in Chinatown. We rode the trolley with all the glee and giddy ness of a small child, hiked through the mist on the edge of the pennisula and we woke up and didn’t hit the ground running. Instead, we woke up, sat on the couch, decided by our own free will and choice to go running and then went to the farmer’s market for breakfast.

Let us not forgot that we also ate stinky chicken, froze our Southern California bones and laughed until our stomachs hurt. We also may have cried when it was time to say goodbye. I got in my cab and the walls came down. I had missed them a lot. Really a lot. And knowing that the months that lay ahead would make me miss them even more made me sad for myself. I allowed myself a solid 8 minutes before I forced myself to engage my darling cab driver in conversation so as to distract myself. I don’t think I realized how tired I was or how bad I needed a getaway until I had it. It is worth noting that the other three needed a weekend refresher as bad as I did. Their husbands work criminal hours and travel loads and two of them have a set of twins at home that they manage gracefully and willfully. It was the best therapy I know and thus for my mental and emotional health am proposing a yearly tradition. Who’s in?