It’s human nature to miss something or someone not there. We can’t help it. We crave that feeling they elicit, that feeling liken to coming home after a long time away.
Often, when I travel, I come across something so special that I have ‘til we meet again dreams about it until that blessed day of reunion comes, if I’m ever so lucky. I have quite a few of those things—driving past fields of sunflowers in Tuscany, exploring the Louvre; the music at the bars in Nashville, Maui’s island culture; Irish coffees at Buena Vista in San Francisco, churros and chocolate at El Moro in Mexico City, and so many others. I think we all have these yearnings for those things that remind us of a wonderful time, and we wish that we could bring those things back to us.
I have visited my cousin in Charlotte, NC a grand total of once in the better part of two years since she moved there. She was brave. With a dream, a husband, and a seven-months-baked bun on the over, she fled San Diego for greener pastures—much greener, damn California drought. I miss her, but she isn’t my ’til we meet again. My ‘til we meet agains for Charlotte are a delicious dish of shrimp and crawfish etouffee from the picturesque wonder that is Cajun Queen, as well as the decadent, mouth watering macarons of Amélie’s.
I can’t help it. My taste buds drive my travels and most of my longings. Last week, this cousin sent three of the latter delightful treats in a lovely white box across the country and straight to my door. Life Tip #4: If your ‘til we meet again shows up at your doorstep, devour it—(wo)man, pastry, or opportunity. Don’t wait. I waited, wanting to enjoy those macarons with a glass of wine and an appetite. Within 12 hours, I lost them to the bottom of a trashcan and one thoughtless act by my SO’s roommate.
Can you tell I’m still torn up about it? ‘Til we meet again, Amélie’s macarons.