Once a year

Finally it has arrived. That one weekend a year the two of you get the chance to escape. Escape from all the pressures of work, the distractions of home and of course the kids. Your three delightful offspring have gone to Grandma’s or Aunt and Uncle’s house or the home of a friend to stay. For two nights there is only the two of you, a chance to reconnect.

The trip is a long one, only two hours in the car but it takes all day what with the stops along the way at wineries (many of those) and of course the beach. You both love wine and the platter you choose at the third one you stop at has an incredible assortment of local cheeses, cold meats and the best pitted olives you have ever tasted. And the beach, that is a must on your list of stops. You both met at the beach, much younger then and slimmer too. Regardless of how the years have changed you both your summer escape always includes a swim in the sea, laughter, freedom, simple joy. You both smell like salt and spray when you hop back in your family van and the couples retreat continues.

Eventually you reach your destination, it is often mid-afternoon. Enough time to unload your bags and bring in the bottles of wine bought throughout the day. There is a short period of time when you explore the house. There is an open fireplace at some, a spa for two at every one; it is still too warm for either though, maybe after sunset. The air conditioner is a blessing, turned on as you walk in you already feel relief from the hot car and the sizzling day.

Soon enough you find the bedroom and all of those wonderful feelings of freedom and escape twist and turn to develop into remembered love and rediscovered lust. You are together alone, no phones, no kids and no distractions. With your eyes only for each other you fulfill twelve long months of pent up desire. Sure you’ve had moments throughout the year when the sparks of passion have ignited. Away from it all is where the sparks turn to a blaze and then an inferno. That is why you have two days away, enough time to reconnect. Passions rise and fall only to rise again. In between is time for deep and meaningful, to talk about the serious things you normally can’t because little ears listen and phones buzz and flash. There is no television so nothing to numb the senses, no news, no DVDs. This time there is an old gramophone and a collection of vinyl. The classics are there and also one or two of your favorites. One of you likes Rock and one of you likes Pop and so through love and an unspoken respect you switch genres regularly. You even try one or two of the records from a yesteryear. As you both imitate the brass and the pin whistle flute you cannot help but fall in to fits of laughter.

The kitchen is well stocked and you both peer into the depths of the white giant fridge, thinking of the feast you plan for breakfast. As the hour drifts close to eight you hunt for pots and pans and together some sort of meal takes form. All you seek is fuel to help you regain your energies. The passion is there and it sparks again in the kitchen while the food cooks and sweet smells waft through the house. You return to the stove just before the lot is burned and the meal over before it has begun. More laughter as blackness is scraped from pots and those dirty pans are left to soak. More talk as the meal makes you sleepy. More kisses, more caresses and then with a knowing smile and a playful wink you return to bed.

As the hot summer sun rises on a brand new day you welcome it with a coffee and a smile or perhaps a glass of champagne to go with the breakfast goodies. The whole day is ahead of you with no responsibilities and still no distractions. All that is on the cards is togetherness.

The day passes slowly, lazily, leisurely. Memories are shared and new ones are made. Another weekend escape is almost over and yet there is so many more hours of one another to enjoy. More wine is drunk, more records played. The spa is nice, but the bed is nicer. It is your world away from reality where you can recall time before commitment and sneak some moments to feel that same feeling again.

For those two days there is bliss, satisfaction and the feeling of utter contentment. This is why you ache for these two days each and every year. This is why you continually promise yourself another two later on, or you make believe that life will be like this once the kids have gone and created lives of their own. And sometimes you are lucky and these thoughts of the future eventually do come true. And sometimes all you have is those two days every year.

The drive home is far different. Your mind is a whir with all the commitments thought left behind that rush towards you with the return trip. You talk and laugh and listen to the music pouring forth from the radio. There is that song you heard and you both laugh as the brass and flute combine. A reconnection has been made. You consider another dip as the beach flies by. A way to truly cement the passion and respect that has been rekindled in such a short period of time. But you realize you are already late and two days is all the time you will receive. Not wanting to push your luck you hurry back to the real world as quickly as you can. You stay for a bit to show your appreciation. Kids climb aboard the van to stamp the fact the weekend is officially over and soon enough your house, the place where you shelter for the rest of the year, becomes your horizon and then your world once more.

That is until the next year comes around, another adventure that awaits your planning, another time to reconnect. Another cottage to visit in the heat of the summer.