I’m Going To Go Back There Someday.
Fall makes me a little crazy. In a good way, I think.
Do you ever feel so far removed from certain parts of your life, that it almost feels like they never happened to you? I guess we reinvent so many parts of ourselves from high school until, maybe forever, but often before the 30’s and 40’s. New residences, boyfriends, diets, wardrobes, friends, groups of friends, jobs.. Times of your life hold atmospheres, and those atmospheres are made up of so many environmental, physical, emotional and mental aspects. There are parts of my life I wouldn’t even believe I experienced if I couldn’t remember them in excruciating details. I’m not talking major changes in me.
I never left North America. I never committed any crimes. I never explored my sexuality. I never changed religions.
So..we’re not talking big, big changes here.
Still I have to squint at memories to gain some recognition of the girl I was, who isn’t even that different from the woman I became! I was reading Jennifer Weiner’s book, “The Next Best Thing” today. The main character was remembering high school and college and how they took her to where she is in the present of the novel. It was doing the same to me. I had this vivid memory that had nothing to do with the book or even my surroundings. I was in college, eating breakfast at the dining hall before I had to grab a bus to my next class. It was cold and my nose was running and I was waiting for my boyfriend. Such a small moment in a large memory bank of even larger moments, but it stuck with me. Not only was it before graduation, it was several homes, friends, jobs and boyfriends ago. Fall makes me remember the things I don’t usually remember.
I’ve been struggling a bit lately with missing California.
A year to the day after we moved from California four years ago, we visited San Francisco and wine country again for a wedding. We came armed with a list of Food Network recommended treats, our brand new baby, and our brand new baby’s complicated gear. We had experienced a terrible New England fall and winter and came back to California with our eyes wide open. This is what it was like:
It was warm and sunny every day of the whole trip. We stayed at the Inn I used to work at and got to see my old manager, Steve. He was radiant. We stayed at an Inn in Calistoga run by our friend, Scarlett. She was as graceful, beautiful and gracious as always. (Our Scarlet is partly named after her) We ran into old friends and neighbors who asked all about our nearly 15-year-old husky, Stormy and Cassidy grinned proudly and told everyone that she was doing fine and was nearly 15. Everyone in the Haight remembered the boy and his husky.
Pretty much exactly a year after that trip, two years after we moved, and nearly two ago today, we visited San Francisco and wine country again for yet another wedding.
It was cold and foggy nearly every day of our trip. The Inn I used to work at was no longer in business. My radiant old manager, Steve, was dying. Our graceful, beautiful and gracious friend Scarlett had recently passed. Stormy had passed two days earlier. Scarlet had a fresh, glaring wound on her face that people asked about.
A difference a year makes. Now it’s been two years. I know one day I’ll go back, with much less (or any at all) of the pain and anxiety I traveled with last time. It won’t be this fall, but one fall, I’ll go back and show Des where he will one day live for six months of the year, after we inevitably win the lottery or invent robotic, swinging baby arms. That love.
Whichever comes first.
“This looks familiar, vaguely familiar,
Almost unreal, yet, it’s too soon to feel yet.
Close to my soul, and yet so far away.
I’m going to go back there someday.” — Gonzo
