Foggy morning here in La Crosse, as I sit on my daughters couch at my laptop. With coffee in hand and new music in my ear from Benny Sweat, I am contemplating what to write this week in my blog. After only five hours of sleep from a night of old and new memories with That Guy and friends I find myself oddly comfortable in my skin this morning.
This visit has been a much needed break from the rat-race of the city life. I've had such a wonderful time catching up with First Daughter and First Son, who was with us all of Wednesday evening and most of Thanksgiving Day into the evening. First Daughter In Law is unfortunately very sick and couldn't make it to us this year so First Son had two dinners. He'll be back today, and we've managed to fill up our four days together with good food and good company, great shows and fun board games. I'm blessed with like minded kids so no political blowups or tiptoeing. And we all have discussed our fears and hopes for the next four years. Having an action plan is important in our interesting times. Friday morning a brunch with Benny and Nikki Sweat gave us the opportunity to connect and hanging out with That Guy last night made me feel I'd fit in everyone that reached out to me wanting to see me this visit. I gave up posting on FB when I was in town, since last year none of my old friends bothered to respond. This year I decided that if they didn't reach out ahead of my arrival they probably didn't have time for me anyway.
Yesterday, for some unknown reason that I still can't put my finger on or tack down in my whirlwind of a mind, I became sad. I had no real reason for this, other than not being able to see First Daughter In Law while here. There is a sadness that will always surround me when I come to this town. So many good memories with the Incarnations of Immortality that are unfortunately tagged with equally sad memories with them, memories that make me shy away from contacting them. Afraid that we've grown apart, which of course makes that a self fulling prophecy. A few good memories but honestly mostly bad ones from Mr. Charisma which only assault me here. And finally the incredible highs and lows of Mr. Hopeful. In fact this mornings foggy day brings back a mixed memory with him that if there were snow on the ground would be almost a perfect snapshot of 'then.'
Then. I hate that time and place. Why can't 'Then' be only the happy times, why does it have to be attached to the memories we'd rather not remember? Wouldn't it be lovely if we could keep the lessons from the bad and after forgiveness, truly erase those memories that caused us pain? Or words that cut us or cut others?
I keep expecting the sun to bake off this blanket of gray that covered my world while I slept. But it seems to be attached to my reality today as well as my memories. Every time I come here I feel a that tug toward the past, and oddly since I'm coming to my kids home instead of them coming to me, it's a reversal. They are home here. I no longer am. I feel like a stranger in a town I lived in for 18 years. I didn't make it downtown to any of my old regular haunts, but that's okay. They stopped being my regular haunts three years ago and even with five days here I just don't feel the need to make time for that scene.
It's so quiet here. The hum of the city is gone, and silence is king.