Bloom and grow, forever.

I picked up a comfort read from my shelf the other day, wanting a book that I wouldn't have to focus too hard on yet would still enjoy.  My head was spasming in ten minute intervals and staring at the computer screen was making everything worse.  A smooth yellow page seemed soothing and a good story would take me away from my head and into a different self.  I decided I could be strong as Harry Crewe and settled into bed with a big glass of water.

Which is when I found it, just peeking over the top edge of my book.  It was a petrol coupon, issued to members of the military posted in Germany only, redeemable at any Esso station off base.  It was marked expired as of September 2004.  I stared at it blankly for a second, wondering where on earth I'd gotten it.  And then I remembered: Beth gave it to me.

It was my first solo trip to Germany, back when she'd still drive the two hours to Frankfurt airport to pick me up, back before I learned how to use the ICE train and felt like a real citizen of the world.  Sarge was stable for the first time in our marriage and I was able to leave him for a week to go visit Beth.  Beth was all alone because my brother was in Iraq, where he had been since February of that year. 

She was still living in the downstairs apartment of the house they lived in their entire stay in Germany.  It was dark and slightly damp and I remember it being very chilly.  And there were spiders, very big spiders.  Beth hates spiders and these guys were all legs. They loved to come out at night and creep around the bathroom; a nasty surprise for anyone who had to pee in the middle of the night (both of us).  They weren't very good climbers so Beth trapped them in wastebaskets and waited for them to die.  When I arrived, she'd had one trapped for five days and it was still grimly hanging on to life.  Every once in a while she'd go by the wastebasket and kick it, shouting "You dead yet, Sanka?"  which we found hysterically funny.  Eventually I put Sanka out of his misery with a flip-flop and thereby became the designated spider-killer.

I got lucky with the weather that trip.  The sky was a cloudless blue and the air was cool but not cold.  I think it was 65 most days and deliciously cold at night--perfect for walking and sleeping.  The first few days we went everywhere; shopping in Schweinfurt, the Residency in Wurzburg, a tiny little town off the map with an absurd flock of white ducks and the most beautiful stone bridge.  On the way home from that little town we got lost and Beth decided to take what she thought was a shortcut.  We wound up on a dirt road that quickly made itself known as a tractor path through some farmer's field!  It had been raining the week before and we nearly found ourselves stuck in the mud.  Her old BMW was a workhorse though, and pulled itself out.  By the time we made it to the other side of the field we were hysterical with laughter and we knew where we were.  We called it "adventure driving".

Toward the end of the trip the weather turned cold and rainy, as the autumn and winter so often is in Germany.  Beth asked if it would be okay for us to stay in one day.  A sigh of relief exploded out of me as I agreed and we spent a whole day sleeping late, playing SpongeBob the video game, eating junk food and watching TV.  It was incredible fun.  We had a friend over for dinner (because I adopted some of Beth's friends and made them mine) and just chillaxed, as we called it.  That was the day I felt like more than a friend and more than family.  I felt like something special.

Back in my bedroom at home, I tucked the expired Esso coupon in the back of my book to remind me another day of blue skies, dead spiders, laughter, and the bonds of sisterhood.