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| Kalamazoo College in winter |
Hi Mom,
So, hi there, I am writing a blog in the sky. Though this one is dated Tuesday December 12th, I am posting it, back dated, on Wednesday December 13th as I ride in an airplane from my new home in the Pacific Northwest back to my old home, my long-time home of Michigan. This will be my first time back in Michigan since I rode the ferry outbound from its shores on August 21st, 2017.
That would be this ferry:
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| the SS Badger 1708.21 |
I hesitate to say that I am "going home." My home is not in Michigan anymore. My home is in Woodland, Washington, just north of Vancouver and of Portland, Oregon. I lived in Michigan a long time.
Surely, it will be familiar. But I don't have that feeling of "going home." I am visiting family and friends. I am re-connecting with people, places, and things somewhere I lived a very long time. But I don't have that feeling of "relief," that feeling of comfort, security, and home. Maybe I will feel all those things when I get there. And maybe I won't. Maybe the thing that is missing from the equation is you, Mom. I don't know.
I will be staying with the Big Guy, Dad, in the condo where you died, Mom, a condo where I never lived, though there are many familiar things there, many of my things are there, and so there will be familiarity and love, but will there be home?
The home that you created is gone, Mom. The home that Dad and I created with you after your days of creating space were largely behind you is also gone. The home that Liesel and I created together is gone, too. By "gone," I mean that the home concept is gone. The physical places remain, of course. But the idea of "home" is gone; it has passed into memory and into feeling, emotion, love.
On the drive to the airport tomorrow morning (tomorrow as I post, this morning as I write), my wife thought I was sad. She was singing along to her music, and I was quiet. Partly, I was quiet because I don't much like "Safety Dance," but then "Under Pressure" played, and I didn't sing to that either. She read my emotions as sad, but my emotions are more complex than simple sadness. I am not sure exactly what I am feeling in a way that I can adequately describe. I think I will know when I get there.
I am bracing myself for the realization that one "cannot go home again" as Thomas Wolfe wrote so long ago.
Maybe I am also seeking closure. I was in such a rush to get out of Kalamazoo on a time schedule. I tried to enjoy the goodbyes and the love from friends and family, but there was also madcap packing and frenzy. This visit will be more reflective and slower paced.
So, we'll see.
Mom, I will soon be where you last were, physically, again.
Friends, for those who see this posting, shoot me a message. I am trying to find time to see as many people as possible, but I have not contacted everyone yet, partly because some plans are still up in the air, and partly because I know I cannot see everyone. I know everyone will understand.
Michigan, Kalamazoo, loved ones, I will see you soon.
PS: I didn't know what photo to choose for the top of this post. The K-College photo feels right as surely I will visit the campus, but it's only one of many places I love. I wish I had a better photo of myself surrounded by Kalamazoo people, loved ones...
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Reflect and connect.
Have someone give you a kiss, and tell you that I love you.
I miss you so very much, Mom.
Talk to you tomorrow, Mom.
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- Days ago = 892 days ago
- Bloggery committed by chris tower - 1712.12 - 10:10
NEW (written 1708.27) NOTE on time: I am now in the same time zone as Google! So, when I post at 10:10 a.m. PDT to coincide with the time of your death, Mom, I am now actually posting late, so it's really 1:10 p.m. EDT. But I will continue to use the time stamp of 10:10 a.m. to remember the time of your death, Mom. I know this only matters to me, and to you, Mom.
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