Ev'ry stranger's face I see reminds me that I long to be

This may come as a shock, but as a single thirty-something gay guy with generally single thirty-something friends, I'm not all that used to being around kids. It's one thing to go visit my sister's family since I'm the one being plunked into the middle of someone else's chaos, but it's quite another to have the mayhem plonked into the midst of my placid life. Now this isn't to say it's unwelcome, because quite to the contrary, I love having the family visit. It's just exhausting is all, because it's so far from my ordinary routine. Of course, it's a small price to pay to spend time with the nephews and my sister and brother-in-law who I don't get to see very often. And another upside: my fridge hasn't been so full of actual nutrition in ever.

So on Saturday Mom & I picked up the rest of the gang at the airport and commenced immediately with the craziness. First was an afternoon at the Aquarium & Academy of Sciences, next was the Pride Parade and an afternoon in search of playgrounds and frisbee fields in Golden Gate Park.

This was followed by a long but thoroughly enjoyable day in Santa Cruz fixing sandwiches in the car, riding the rides on the boardwalk, watching the boys get progressively wetter being chased by waves at the beach, eating funnel cakes and fried twinkies, rinsing sand from between our toes, laughing uncontrollably at the synchronous screamers on the drop ride, and trying to stay awake with caffeine and conversation on the drive back to the City.

Nikole had to leave early Tuesday for business in LA, and I had to spend the day back at the office while everyone else toured the ships docked at the Wharf. But Wednesday before heading for the airport we rose again above the fog layer for a hike to the top of Mt. Tam, and descended into the cool dark redwood groves of Muir Woods on the mountain’s flanks.

The airport goodbye is tough in either direction, especially after a particularly good visit and without the next trip scheduled definitively. So despite a certain guilty relief at the prospect of returning to life as usual, perhaps it shouldn't be so surprising that the suddenness of the silence still made the solitude sort of sad.