I see my family twice a year; once in the summer and then at either Thanksgiving or Christmas, depending on which holiday it was we went last.
I haven't seen my family in 137 days. When I calculated that out, as yes, you knew I would, I was a bit shocked that it was only 137 days. It seems so much longer since I've crossed the border from Indiana into Michigan and exclaimed to all of the occupants in the vehicle "We made it! Only one-hundred and fifty-five miles to go!"
Yep, I know what you're thinking, "Have you really calculated just how far your family lives from the Michigan/ Indiana line?" I did that once too. That's the longest part of the trip there sometimes.
In fifty nine days, we'll spend hours in the car and do it again. (Hopefully, we can come there and back in the time we planned this year; the extra time with my family last summer was nice and they were totally gracious to allow us to stay while the van was undriveable, but if that happens this year, I'll probably lose my job. And that'd be bad.)
Fifty nine days seems awfully long. To wait fifty nine days, it's a good thing that I have things like work to keep me occupied. The closer it gets to time to go, the more I just wanna go.
I wanna have coffee with my mom. I wanna see and hear my dad play his drum set. I wanna go shopping with my sister. I wanna hug my sister-in-law and laugh for hours at my brother's sense of humor. I wanna play with my nieces and nephews. And I'm even lucky enough to say that I look forward to meeting my newest nephew by then who should be just a few days over four weeks old.
In fifty-nine days.