Perfect is the enemy of good, part II

This summer when the Wolf was home for bloc leave, I planned a 3 day romantic get away for us. Went all out, go the hotel room with the jacuzzi, the reservations at the fancy restaurant with the amazing view, the wine, the nice martini glasses and fixin's for in the room ... you get the picture. I wanted everything to be perfect.

And it rained the entire time. And the Wolf was in a bad mood, part pre-deployment mind and part something else, which may get its own post at some point. The view wasn't as nice as things he's seen in Africa. He didn't see what all the fuss was about for this area.

And I was devastated. I wanted it to be perfect. I wanted to have this amazing time before he leaves, good memories, fun, warm loving feelings. It didn't happen there. It was, however, not all bad. We had some fun, and made some memories, albeit not the ones I had planned. But since I had set myself up for this "perfect" get away, I couldn't appreciate it at the time.

A few days later, back home, we managed to grab a few lazy hours. We fell asleep on the sofa in his parent's living room, me on top of him, both out cold.

I think that is one of my favorite memories from this leave, or at the least one of the most comforting ones.

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I got one of those viral getting-to-know-you answer these questions thingies today on Facebook. One of the questions asked "what was your favorite vacation"?

I have been some cool places and done some cool things, but when I thought about it, my favorite trip was going down to see the Wolf when he was on course in Delaware. We did touristy things the first weekend, but then he had to go back to "work", and I hung out by myself during the day, and then made supper for him and whoever else showed up (man those guys can eat!). My favorite memories of that trip? Chatting about randomness while I did dishes and he checked e-mail; making coffee and sitting at the kitchen table talking over it; laying on the sofa, me reading, him watching TV, idly holding hands and snuggling.

Not some big, elaborate, "perfect" thing we had planned.

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So next time I am fussing over something that I think needs to be "perfect", I am going to think back on all my happy memories, and realize that they are not perfect, but they are good. Very, very good. And that is good enough.