I Miss My Dames (and my Cokes) Most of All

Dorothy, upon leaving Oz, turned to Scarecrow and said, I think I’m going to miss you most of all. I always cried at that scene as a kid but never really understood why. Now I do.

My return six months ago to work required that I slow down on my writing and focus on getting things like paid time off and health benefits that don’t require a vault filled with bars of gold. While I’ve enjoyed my work and my new community, I have missed my writing. But Dames, I have missed you most of all.

The only thing even vying for that level of emotion is the loss of Coca-Cola due to my hiatal hernia. I don’t always cry at funerals, but a tear runs down my cheek every time I see a red can.

And a tear also runs down my cheek when I run into a feisty group of women in red hats. While some of those red hat women are a little grouchy, the gaggle I ran into last Saturday was feisty and fun. And I thought about you.

Last weekend when a young girl (with the license plate “Bubble Girl”) pulled in front of me and flipped me off when I honked, and I double flipped her off in return, I thought of you.

When I broke out in a sweat during an important meeting and ended up with cheeks that looked like Raggedy Ann’s, I thought of you.

When I was working out on the treadmill  watching the old “Bob Newhart Show” while eating a Three Musketeers candy bar, I thought of you.

And when I screamed at the top of my lungs because the woman in front of me was trying to talk on the phone and drive (when she obviously could do neither well) and caused me to miss the light and I slammed my hand down and knocked my coffee over, I thought of you.

Now I know exactly what Dorothy meant. There is something about a friend who accompanies you down life’s path and shares their stories and laughter with you, even if across the lines of technology. So, I’m coming back.

At least once a week, on my Saturdays, I’m checking in with you Dames to see how it’s going. The blogs might be shorter, the sentiments a little rushed, but I’m here. And if you don’t hear from me next week it’s because I’ve already forgotten that I said I was back, so just give me a little nudge on Facebook or Twitter and remind me.

Now, Dames,  how have you been?