This morning we sleep later, as we are tired. I have taken so many showers over the last two days, I realize, about three per day, since I enjoy showers and especially when the shower has a higher than average flow and the water is particularly hot. My friend and I put on our retreat t-shirts to try to take the spirit of the weekend home with us. I go out to the breakfast buffet and eat the same thing as yesterday – Corn Pops, a big strawberry yogurt, the European brand, and a sweet roll which has too much icing. I am going to make myself sick, I worry, but chances to eat this much food of questionable nutritional value are few and far between. And I’ve always had the attitude that my job when I’m home is to eat healthy, when I’m travelling I don’t have to.

I feel at peace at the close of the retreat. I like the things we’ve done – I enjoyed the meditation, and the sharing, and although I’m shocked, as I have been before, at some of the stories that have come out of the closet from women I don’t even know, stories which just go to tell you that just because someone seems to have a lovely taste in clothes and a pretty smile doesn’t mean life hasn’t dealt her some punishing whacks. We all get, in some sense, just as much as we can handle. No one is getting off easy. Really.

I thought I had it so hard. But in fact, we all have it so hard and so easy, is the feeling I get at the end of the retreat. We all had too much and just the right amount. We all had more love than we expected and yet never were loved as much as we thought we would be. It’s the woman’s condition, we are so often called creatures of mystery but the thing I don’t think the men know is we are mysterious even to each other, even to ourselves.

My friend and I get back in the car after one last inspirational speech and drive home, stopping in Denton to enjoy Luigi’s Italian Restaurant, which I personally prefer to any Italian place at any price in Fort Worth. My friend surprises me by paying the bill, and we have cannelloni, which are fried cookies filled with flavored whipped cream, and good coffee, which we didn’t get at the retreat, 50-cup coffee tankers being what they are, and enjoy one last prodigal eating excess before returning to home, hearth, and everyday food strictures.

Back in Fort Worth, as she drops me off at the curb, and I give her a hug, I feel a sudden sense of terror at confronting the chaos of family life once again. Nevertheless, womanlike, I pick up my suitcase and walk toward the door. No matter what, I made it through last year, and I will probably make it through this year as well. And in the turn of another 12 months, I will make sure I make the 2010 women’s retreat. I’ve got that to strengthen me, to look forward to, for now.