(This post started out with a ruder title, but I didn't feel it did justice to the subject of this posting.) So, my (slightly delusional, but only in a "good way") impossibly generous, always loving and always undeniably entertaining parents just got on a plane home, from Orange County, CA to Vermont, this morning. And, this means I AM VERY SAD. Having them with us for the past Christmas week was always wonderful, occasionally stressful, a bit heartbreaking, but often hilarious...And, putting them on a plane this morning felt awful. After dropping my folks off at the Long Beach Airport, I couldn't bear to just head home just right then, so I stalled and took my kids to a nearby favorite thrift store first. There, I picked up a used Eva Cassidy CD I'd once heard was good. On the way home, we listened to Cassidy for the first time. Suddenly, upon hearing her version of "Imagine" I found myself unintentionally and inexplicably weeping into my steering