Scrambling trying to get ready for the long book signing/birthday/Mother's Day weekend in Naples now...Oh my Lord are my days of packing light long over.
But before I go, I need you to read this.
I don't really ever cross posts between my column and blog too often. It perhaps seems silly, or perhaps you haven't even noticed there is a difference between the two, but I have this strange need to keep them separate. Which is stupid and pointless because neither one is anonymous--it's sort of like this blog is the crazy friend you keep from inviting to parties because although she's way more fun, she would upset the balance of your normal crowd. Or something like that.
Anyway, sometimes writing a column is merely me transcribing the thoughts of the day that I have already written in my head. (Perhaps that explains the quality of many of them.) And then other times, much less frequently, I feel as though there is something that I need to say, but don't quite know what it is--like when you walk into a room and forget why you came in there to begin with.
Tired metaphors aside, this column came about because through no purposeful planning, just accidental coincidence, my Mom's Happy Place beach is in Naples--to the exact one we are spending our weekend. The irony was not lost on me (or Sean) when the original book signing event was proposed months ago, but with everything going on, I guess I didn't let it rise to the surface of understanding.
Until this week when I walked into that room and remembered what it was I wanted to say.
Happy Mother's Day everyone.