And it was Good

Day 20

I spent yesterday working in the yard, trying to get the grass mowed, the edges trimmed, the flowers watered, the weeds pulled, and the debris blown away before our Friday night excursion to the lake with MJ's parents. I had always looked forward to the boat trips as a time to decompress after a long day of yard work or school. But what I looked forward to the most was a cold glass of chardonnay on the water, a Maker’s and Diet Coke at Willy’s B & G after the Boat ride, or a frozen margarita with salt at Don Gallos on the patio. Tonight, how would I feel with a sore back from weed eating for too long with my new 18v Ryobi while I sipped on water on night?

Well, I’ll tell you how I felt by the time I got on the boat. I felt thirsty. Real thirsty. The kind of thirsty that a chardonnay or a whiskey or even a margarita on a hot day at the beach (but I will miss those) can quench. I was dehydrated, and I needed water. And I craved water. And I had made me a water bottle of water from my wonderful soda stream. I love those fizzy bubbles. And I drank it. And it was good. And the wind felt good.

And do you know what else I appreciate more now that I am not so consumed with alcohol. Food. I appreciate food more. Don’t get me wrong. I have lost a few pounds because I am consuming fewer alcoholic calories. I don’t have much water weight anymore either. And because I am not spending my evenings sipping drinks with caloric content, I have the room in my diet to enjoy an appetizer before dinner, or dessert afterwards. On a hot day instead of a margarita, I have a popsicle with J.

So for dinner last night, I wondered if it would be hard for me to skip the margarita at my favorite Mexican restaurant, Don Gallos. The margarita, of course, has always been my favorite part about going there and the queso and chips the second. MJ and I have skipped it before when we were either detoxing for a month or planning to ride our bikes that day, so I knew that I could. But when I had forgone a margarita in the past, I it had been easier because I could tell myself that the next time we come back, I will have one. But could I go to Don Gallos and enjoy myself, knowing that I am going to have to get used to not having a margarita—that I may never have another one again. If I have to choose between my health and a margarita, I choose my health.

So when the waiter asks, “What will you have?”

I asked, “Do you have sparkling water, with lime?”

“Is that like soda water?” He replies quizzically. Another confused look similar to the one that the one the waiter at Water to Wine gave me. This one though I think was more of a language barrier where the waiter wanted to make sure that he got the order right. At Water to Wine I think they just wondered why anyone would order water at a wine bar.

“Yes, I think so.” I return, relieved that I will have a drink with carbonation. I know that I could order a regular soda, but sue me, I like water+soda. Yes, soda water makes much more sense then “sparking water.” That is just a fancy name for soda water, isn’t it? Sorry to digress.

“I’ll bring you some limes,” He says, breaking into my reverie.

“Thank you.”

We begin talking about our family history because the kids have recently become interested in our ancestry, yet they disagree on our heritage. We are discussing what we know about our family tree with Jack when the waiter brings our drinks. He puts the glass down with soda water and hands me a straw and a dish of limes. I thank him, squeeze two limes into my water, put the straw in, and take a long sip. And it was good.

“MJ, this soda water is so good. Why is it so good?”

“It is from their soda stream.”

Wow, I thought. I wonder if I should get a restaurant-grade soda stream . . . For a quick minute, I thought about searching Pinterest when I got home for Kitchen ideas for putting a stronger soda stream in the coffee bar area of our kitchen when we remodel our kitchen. Am I addicted to soda water? I guess there could be worse things to be addicted to, but I think that I should scratch the idea the new soda stream idea, right?

We came home that night, and instead of drinking, I read with J and tucked him in. MJ watched some of the Tour de France, and then he came to bed. It was strange for us to go to sleep stone cold sober on a Friday night. He wanted to, well, you know, and I was so tired from yard work, I said, let me sleep for a little while first. And I did. We both woke up in the middle of the night, well rested, and we, well, you know, and it was good.

The strange thing was, he said some things to me that surprised me, some things that made me feel like I am just getting to know him all over again, but like he knows me better than anyone, all at the same time. Like we are starting again. Like we have another chance.

Or like we have been drunk and going through all the motions for so long and not paying attention to each other, to ourselves, or to J. I will keep words that he shared with me to myself. He does not shower many compliments, and maybe I don’t either. Last night made me more aware of that. But that makes the few he gives sincere and a gift.

But no matter what happens this year, I can say that my life changed this summer. And no matter how bad I felt on July 19th after that tonic clonic seizure, it made me realize that I need to take care of myself. So if you ask me how my summer was when I go back to school, I'll say, "It was good."