Staycation

If it’s early November, then I am, as Gilbert O’Sullivan sang, “… alone again (naturally).”

A three-time Grammy Award-winning record, this 1972 soft-rock hit may be the most depressing song ever written. Recap: Jilted groom gets ghosted at the altar and contemplates jumping to his death.

Pass the popcorn.

More than 45 years ago, this song made grownups cry and sixth-graders like me giggle, especially at these tender lyrics: “To think that only yesterday, I was cheerful, bright and gay.”

What can I say? There’s something incredibly silly about the word “gay” to a 12-year-old kid. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

Luckily, I’m not getting married or throwing myself off a tower anytime soon.

But, on second thought, check back with me after the 2020 presidential election.

Which conveniently brings us to the point of this rather convoluted piece.

Every fall, on or near Election Day, my partner takes a vacation for two weeks with her best friend, Karen. They stay at a lovely resort in Lauderdale-by-the-Sea, on Florida’s east coast. Nestled between Fort Lauderdale and Pompano Beach, this charming seaside town is known for its restaurants, shopping and diving.

You can guess what those two BFFs will be doing, and it doesn’t involve underwater breathing.

I’ll be staying home in Michigan.

After 15 years together, Rebecca and I are not joined at the hip, although some would argue that we are likely “Velcroed” elsewhere since we spend so much time together. Dinners, movies, plays, Jazzercise, Target. Perhaps they have a point.

Honestly, we do have separate interests and try to accommodate each other’s need for alone time. I definitely require more solitude than she does. She’s a social butterfly. I prefer cocoons. Like most writers, I need my space. Mainly to contemplate my navel while dreaming up story ideas.

Most of the time we do travel together. RV road trips and visiting Florida’s Gulf Coast, or, as we did in September, enjoying a river cruise in the Bordeaux region of France.

We always have had a wonderful time on those vacations, but we’re both looking forward to the next two weeks apart. It will be good for us as individuals, and in turn, good for our relationship.

I read somewhere that it’s healthy for most couples to take separate vacations once in awhile. The desire to travel without your significant other doesn’t mean there’s trouble in paradise. Quite the opposite. It shows mutual trust and a genuine concern for each other’s happiness.

Plus, it allows enough time to clean out the kitchen pantry and toss that can of Dole crushed pineapple from 2005. Her: “It might still be good.” Me: “No.”

She threatens to have “Expired” etched on my tombstone.

“What makes you think I’ll go first?” I ask. “I’m not the one eating spoiled food.”

The unfortunate truth is that sometimes, we need to remember what life is like without someone in order to be as happy as we can be with them. And with any luck, if you’re missing each other at the end of two weeks apart, that’s a good sign.

One of my favorite Kahlil Gibran quotes from the book The Prophet is in his chapter “On Marriage”: “Let there be spaces in your togetherness. And let the winds of the heavens dance between you.”

While she’s away, I’ll see friends, visit my sisters and hang out with our dog, Maddie. But mostly I’ll be home recharging my mind and body, reading books and writing a blog post or two.

In keeping with what also has become a November tradition, I’ll enjoy a scrumptious Mediterranean dinner at Anita’s Kitchen with Karen’s partner, my friend Pat, who’s also alone again (naturally) for the next two weeks.

We call it our “Same Time, Next Year” date.

She’ll likely be working on her art projects and hanging out with their cat, Rocky.

Because when the BFFs are away, these house cats won’t stray.

We do, however, order lamb chops.