Wednesday, October 13, 2004
I heard he was coming on the 15, then the 20th, now the 16th he assures me. I miss the big lug, and Adriana does too whether she freely admits it or not. He is DRIVING down here, which I am a little worried about. Bill Lima driving solo for 1400 plus miles. He might cash in his chips and decide to live in Virginia or something.
I am SOOOOOOOOOOO excited for thanksgiving. SO SO SO. Its kind of sad because it's so far away. But as my dad (and I'm sure yours too) always said "It'll be here before you know it" I catch myself saying things like that. Daddyisms. Is it because I am getting older and realize the truth of what he says/said, or has he brainwashed me? I think it might more be that his phrases are shorter and more to the point than anything I could come up with on my own, and also they resound in my soul, making remember what it was like to be home. Where is home now?, I often wonder. It is found I think most frequently in the smell of wood burning stoves, mixed with fallen leaves, apple trees, and the crisp (but not bitter) chill of the fall. Also it is in my mom's lasagna and in the sound of her trying not to sound worried in her phone messages. It is in the sage advice of my father coupled with his inescapable bearhugs. It is in the giddiness of my sister, and the softhearted teasing of my brother. It is in the laughter of every single one of my friends. My dad sold our house this past winter. I wasn't there to see it go, but its just as well. When I visit this time around for the holidays, it will be my first that hasn't taken place in that house in over 18 years. The first 5 or so were in our old house in Johnston, but I don't even remember those. So it is as my own home I face the world. Like the turtle I carry my home on my back, a rag tag assemblage of memories in assorted colors, sounds, and smells, no one building could fit them anymore anyhow. In this way it is true that you can't go home again, because you can never leave.
