Into the Sunrise

An eerie silence now pervades the homestead.  The PanaGals have departed the realm, leaving a vacuum behind of empty shoe boxes, under spoiled canines, and a gaping hole in the fun meter. 

I allowed myself an hour and forty five minutes for the early morning drive yesterday through the beginning of the Boston rush hour to Logan International Airport.  My stalwart brother in law assisted in loading up the car with the burgeoning suitcases with the booty from the weeklong PanaGal shopping depredations while my sister delivered the needed injection for my sister in law (got all that?). 

Since there was no additional space (whatsoever) in the car with all the baggage, my wife had to say goodbye once we pulled out of the garage.  I don’t think the garage door was fully closed before she was crying.  The PanaGals were their usual ebullient selves as we wended our way into the sunrise and increasing traffic.  Then something totally unexpected happened; we made it all the way into and through Boston without the slightest congestion.  I was checking the mirrors to see if there had been some sort of meteor strike.

Last Known Sighting Of PanaGals in USA
At the Airport Guarding Their Loot

We arrived at the airport exactly one hour after pulling out of the driveway.  Again, this is something anyone who drives in the Boston area will understand  approaches the bizarre level of miracle.  We arrived so early that the airline ticket counter wasn’t open yet.  The PanaGals roosted on top of their luggage mountain and were casting about for additional shopping opportunities in the terminal until I gently reminded them about the weight limits they were perilously close to on even their carry on bags.

I was genuinely concerned about the territorial integrity of Panama when they landed there.  I thought the sheer weight of all their stateside purchases might cause the Pacific side of the isthmus to sink a few inches.  Their flight left on time and they were safely back home before I arrived home from work last night.  I miss them.

The ride back out of Boston towards work in Worcester was almost surreal.  There was virtually no traffic on my side again but the road into Boston was back to its normal gridlock.  It was almost as if the road had been opened for us.  I ascribe this phenomenon to the fact I was transporting guests from my son’s wedding to the BFA.  It seems like everything associated with that ceremony had a generous dusting of magic applied.

It was good to get back to work, if only to get some rest.  Hosting a bevy of PanaGals is fun but also exhausting and not for the meek of heart; especially my wife who played the part of organizer/pack leader.  She spent most of the day resting in bed after the tumultuous past few weeks.  I think she was also nursing a bruised psyche from having to bid farewell to beloved family.