You know how they say, "you can never go home again." I do agree with an amended form of that statement. I think that you can go home, but it will never be the same again. When I entered my neighborhood where I lived for the first 18 years of my life, I noticed all the same houses in the same place I left them, but they were all painted new colors. It's a metaphor for my time back home. I go back home and I feel like I'm a guest. It's a strange feeling when go somewhere you grew up and can still run into random people you knew, but the closest people don't really have time for you. I didn't even bother trying to see some people, I opted to see others I had neglected for so long. People drop in and out of my life and that's just how it is. I can't please everyone and I can't apologize for leaving. I drove a car for the first time in almost 2 years and I realized that driving a car is just like riding a bike. I never forgot the rules or the skill, I'm just glad I don't have to do it anymore.
I slept in my old room in a twin-sized bed. The sheets weren't soft like I make them at my home with fabric softener. I expected that much because my mom skimps on things like that. There is cheap rough toilet paper, generic shampoo and no specialty band-aids to be found in my mother's home. I brought my own dryer sheets to do laundry for free at my parent's house. That was silly because when I got back, all my stuff smelled funky like the old people moth ball smell of my parent's home. I stayed in my old bedroom which was painted sterile white, not like the Pepto pink of my troubled youth, but in the closets were remnants of my past life. On the first night, I had dinner at home with my mom and dad and last remaining grandparent, Sophie. I still believe my Mom needs another outlet to be worshipped for besides her cooking and her bridge playing. She could have been a talented journalist if she wasn't so lazy in school and so outright hedonistic. Then, I was picked up by one of my dearest friends and we went out for drinks. It was awkward until I got that first drink in me. After my friend dropped me home, I sat and talked with my Sophie for a bit.
Most of my girlfriends are coupled up and my family is filled with the "marrying types." I'm the only divorcee in the lot. I don't usually mind that, I have loved and lost and have made myself as worldly as I wish, except I hate those pitying looks I get from my relatives. My friends reminded me that this was the first time they've seen me and I didn't have a boyfriend, husband, boy-toy or fiancé; that helped only slightly. My grandmother, said, "you just need to find another man." As we lied down on the reclining chairs talking and watching TV. I told her "I don't need to, but I want, one day." After a bit, I went to my bedroom with the two twin-sized beds and felt very alone. I decided to look through my old yearbooks and read my high school poetry and prose. I was comforted that I was still the same person, but just a little bit grown up now. I loved seeing the inscriptions about how funny and smart I was, before I've lived so many lifetimes.
The next day was Thanksgiving and my sister's house was filled with twenty-five relatives. It was a madhouse filled with children and hugs and kisses, polite conversation and tacky comments behind people's backs. Tiring, but it was good that everyone seemed to be on their best behavior. At least, no one said anything nasty to my face. In fact, they told me I looked "really good" and "Very New York." My oldest sister cooks for a living so the food was divine. Everyone contributed and we all stuffed ourselves as usual. I was happy to see that not much has changed with these people. The house was painted the same color and everyone who was supposed to be there, was there. I missed my middle sister but she and I are virtually interchangeable for lack of being there, if only that. The kids are all growing up and they are all in their right place. I was surprised that my cheerleader-cousin wants to go to an out-of-state school, but I was pleased to know that even popular girls know there are other places to live besides Texas. The highlight of the day was closing the door to the rest of my family and hanging out with my two nieces. They are so genuine and apparently love me and wanted to share their yearbooks, show me their dance moves and do girl talk with me. I feel like I miss out on their lives a lot of the time, but when I enter their lives they have a special place for me. I'm glad to be the "Cool Aunt Nancy."
Thanksgiving night, I had a little reunion of sorts with the boy-next-door and an ex-boyfriend of mine. Well, the boy-next-door actually lived 6 houses down, but we were in a band together at one time and used to run away when our parents were bad to us and I did date nearly all of his friends including the Ex-boyfriend that picked me up that night. Wow, he wasn't that hot when we used to go out. Anyway, it was a fun night. We got drunk in my friend's garage bar setup. Most of my Texas friends have mortgages now and when I entered my guy friend's house, it felt like his parents were out of town and we were having a party. But no, we were having a party at his house that he owns. Weird to me because I live in another world, where only millionaires own their own places. As my girlfriend pointed out, I just don't live where I can own my own home. Anyhow, it was so nice to spend Thanksgiving evening not talking superficially about my work or New York, but instead reminiscing about high school times and gossiping about people we once knew. It was also so cherry to have been picked up by an Ex, who has gotten even cuter since I knew him. He ever whispered in my ear, "don't you kind of wish you would have stayed with me?" A part of me wishes it were that simple. I could have stayed in Suburbia and I probably would have had 2 kids by now, but I am on a different course now and I'll never know. It felt like high school again when he put the moves on me in the bathroom and in his car. It was hot and naughty and I guess I needed that.
The next day, I watched the UT vs. A&M game with my Dad as we got the phone call about one of his best friend's and political colleagues, Frank Madla, dieing tragically in a house fire with much of his family. That was the worst thing I've ever heard of happening to family I kind of know! Frank Madla, was a dear friend of my father's. They were roommates when they were in the legislature and he appointed my dad to be counsel for the Texas Senate and they worked directly together for many years, very recently. Frank Madla had a big impact on my dad's political career. It was a tragic loss and I felt so bad for my dad and the Madla family. I stayed with my father a while and tried to be there as much as I could. It made the national news, but this news hit home.
I also went to Austin to visit my old best friend and see Austin for 24 hours. It was really an important part of my trip. I had not seen Laura in three or four years and it was overdue. Austin hadn't really changed, it had just grown. I got to eat at one of my favorite spots, Kirby Lane and cruised the local sights. My favorite co-Music Director stopped by to see me and we chatted away for as long as we could. It was awesome to sit down and wax on musically and personally with one of my favorite Austinites. My old best friend was the same, a little heavier, lived n the same apartment she had for the last 6 years and has grown a little too comfortable in her surroundings. She has not done anything to finish school or get a high paying job. In fact, she is on government assistance, something I couldn't share with anyone like my parents, but I feel the need to express it here. She cooked for me and I took her out to eat and we went shopping. I did what I could in the short time I has with her. I can make excuses for her being on food stamps, but after all the tragedies, she's been through, like seeing her mom killed by a drunk driver, having her inheritance blown by a swindler and finding her ex boyfriend dead of a drug overdose, but the truth of the matter is she doesn't like to go to work and seems fine with barely scraping by. I was mentally prepared to see her, I will love her eternally, but its always hard to feel like I'm the one that escaped.
The rest of the trip was spent going to the Hill Country, meeting relatives and friends for meals and visiting with other high school friends in their homes. I was content to see the people that I did and I was glad to get to spend time talking and catching up with my family and friends but I am totally relieved to be back in New York where I have responsibilities of another kind. Everything in New York may be more complicated and fast paced, but I'm happy to be in that world. We don't have mortgages but we function on other things. All the buildings were the same upon my return, and the colors were dulled from my hazy escape.
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