The Holy Pie-Making Shirt

Otherwise known as... A Most Unusual Christmas Eve Indeed...

Saturday started out as no other Christmas Eve I have ever had.  My new, sweet, love--  GDA (Great Dancing Argentinian)-- was leaving for his home country that afternoon out of Miami Int'l Airport.  He had originally planned to stay at a friend's house in Miami the night before, but I had offered to drive in an effort to squeeze in a few more hours together before GDA left the country for three weeks. 

GDA eagerly accepted my offer, and I was glad to know we would have a bit more quality time together before his vacation.  Three weeks is a long time, especially when a relationship is brand-new.

So, Saturday morning we packed up my car, got a drive thru breakfast at Chick-fil-e (and Starbucks for my sweet), and hit the open road.  We listened to a mix of his music and my music.  We have very different musical tastes.  Mine range in the alternative/singer-songerwriter genres... GDA prefers hip-hop and songs with Latino flavor.  (Of late, I've been getting into the Latin music scene as well, to help with my salsa dancing.)  When listening to music, I count in my head.  Additionally, "I'm Sexy and I Know It" by LMFAO (I can't tell you how much this name irks me!) has become our mantra of sorts.  We'll be doing whatever, and then GDA will break out with I'm Sexy and I Know It.  

I love his sense of humor.  

Okay, I love a lot of things about him, and now he's in Argentina, which I simultaneously love (he's with his family at Christmas-- what could be better than that?) and hate (he's away from me so soon after finding this sublime connection), and I am here... relishing in the knowledge that there is this amazing person in the southern hemisphere who is missing me as much as I am missing him.

But, I digress.  And I'm getting a bit mushy, too. 

GDA and I drove to Miami International Airport, which was surprisingly devoid of traffic, parked, and got him checked in with his airline carrier.  We then had lunch at the airport Chili's, my stomach sinking because I knew I was putting off the inevitable.  As a veteran of long-distance relationships, I am all too well-acquainted with airport good-byes.  Of course, this was different.  GDA was only going on vacation, and would be home in three short weeks.  Three weeks, I might add, in which I would be running a half-marathon, getting back into the swing of salsa lessons and my extreme work habits, and of course, blogging about it all.

As we clung to each other, tenderly smooching outside the decidedly un-romantic airport security checkpoint, I felt like I was having an out of body experience when GDA breathed, Wait for me.

You know I will.

Three weeks really isn't such a long time.  It just seems that way right now.  And the mushiness has returned.

I can't help it!!!

I drove home content with the events of the past 24 hours, and excited about the next 24 hours to come-- Christmas with my family.  I drove straight to my parents' home, and got in around 5:30with plenty of time to spare before our Christmas Eve dinner.  My dad's cousin Michael and his mother, my great-Aunt Holly, were already making themselves at home.  Michael is 57, and successfully bridges the generation gap between myself and my folks.  He was wearing a blue t-shirt that had a hole in the back.  Michael, did you know your shirt is holy?

This is my pie-making shirt.  Every year Michael makes an amazing homemade apple pie to go with our holiday dinner.  His apple pies are the stuff dreams are made of.  (And today I got the very last slice after my run-- score!!!) 

A little while later we were finishing dinner.  Michael had changed into a long sleeved blue shirt before dinner, and we talked about how he was about to finish his pie.  But you're not in your holy shirt! 

This is my dinner shirt.  I have to change back into my pie-making shirt.

The clothes really do make the man.  Or in this case, the pie-maker.