Heading down to Charleston, South Carolina today.
This is the sort of trip you take to celebrate your 30th wedding
anniversary when you’re trying to pay for your daughter’s wedding. I mean, your
30th doesn’t come around every day. Some of our friends have gone to
Greece or Italy or some other exotic place. No, we’re driving down to
Charleston for four days because our son is down there so we’ll get to see him.
A two-fer!
Of course, Charleston is no slouch. I have always wanted
to go there and, from everything I’ve heard, it’s gorgeous. Patrick has fallen
in love with the place.
Getting away from Richmond has become an obsession
of late. Leaving Dad for four days brings a mixture of guilt and relief. Last
night he knew who I was but spent most of our time together telling me about
how the nurses were trying to beat him up.
Leaving Richmond will be easier than leaving everything
behind. I will still have one eye trained on the stock market. My heart will
jump every time I see the nursing home’s number pop up on my cell phone. Pam
will still have wedding planning details and loose ends swimming around in her
brain.
But here’s the plan. To the best of my ability, I’m
going to concentrate on the beauty of this charming southern treasure. I’m
going to enjoy the Spoleto festival atmosphere. I’m going to spend some time
with my talented son and watch him perform in an opera and a choral concert and
celebrate his 25th birthday. I’m going to sightsee and eat fabulous
food. I’m going to be eternally grateful for the privilege I’ve had to be Pam’s
husband for 30 years.
I will leave it to the rest of you to sort out who’s
to blame for Elliot Rodger’s murderous rampage, why the Veteran’s Administration
treats our soldiers worse than the terrorists at Gitmo, and why the City of
Richmond can’t agree on a new baseball stadium.
I’m out.
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