So you leave tomorrow for the land of clovers and green and jigs (Tangled, what?) and potatoes. Especially potatoes. Throughout all this making fun of leprechaun - a - go - go - land, I never asked you what your favorite type of potato was. Do you prefer mashed? sweet? baked? double baked? half baked (that's not a potato...but I figured I had to get all the 'baked's in)? scalloped? fried? french fried? Portugese fried (laith would approve)? chips? kettle chips? salty chips? vinegar chips?
And then after you choose your favorite type of potato you have to choose your topping, of course. Extra salt? Gravy - brown, turkey, lamb, au jus? Ketchup? Chocolate Frosty? This is imperative knowledge. Because once you start saying goodbye to someone, even if they're gone for just a little while, it's like you have to know everything. You have to know where and when and why and how and who and what and pick every detail until the last second and then all of a sudden you've realized how much you've wasted all of your precious time. Goodbyes don't just reflect poorly on me, but they also show the weaknesses in a relationship. The breaking points. The brittle parts.
But today, instead of being brittle and broken and crying and less than subtly interrogating you on every bit piece of information, I'll be quiet. I'll accept it instead of pretending I can prevent the slips in life through knowing all the information. I'll let life go on and live it, accepting that I can only grab hold of so much. Mistakes will happen, but that's okay.
- Lizzie
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