On Wednesday nights, a small contingent of my running pace group meets for a few mid-week miles. This week we did four in the thick, humid, central Ohio air. Still green trees and three small deer cheered us on.
After, some of us often go out for a meal, but this week, everyone else needed to go home. I hadn’t eaten so I drove through Taco Bell for the bean and rice burrito.
It was not in the least reminiscent of my years in New Mexico. Instead, I remembered evenings with my sister when we would dine at Taco Bell, enjoying not so much the food, but the company. She lived ten minutes away for many years. This summer, after she had retired, she moved to a small town an hour away to live with her long-time boyfriend and his three grandchildren.
After I ate, I texted her. “I went to Taco Bell. Miss you.” She texted back, “Miss you too.” She’s happy and I’m happy for her. Knowing that made the mostly dull burrito taste better.