While I was home, I was able to spend some time with old friends. This was a breeze of tranquility for me; a breath of cool mint in my face. Jen and I watched top 25 places in the USA to visit on the Travel Channel and the Grand Tetons of Wyoming won first place! I agree, to an extent.
I also had the privilege to reconnect to my old Academic Support buddy Dan. We were the dorks sprinting through the hallways every day after History class, racing to our lockers. Competitiveness never ends, it seems. I beat him in Shuffleboard with some tipsy LeMoyne guy, whose name I forgot and is not important anyway.
It made me think about home in a different way. It's comfort. It's relief.
For me, that weekend was finding a ladybug land on my hand. I believe that ladybugs are lucky, but luck doesn't just come. It is triggered. It was 5 days of unraveling events of happy coincidences.
It is now two and a half weeks later and the smile hasn't left my face. The memory feels like a next door neighbor; I can knock on his door any day and he'll be there to have a conversation with.
I miss home, but not as a physical place. I miss it as a memory. As a unit of me that is somewhere that I am not. I continually wish my family and friends and loved ones to move to a solid place, or commune, where we can wake up and eat breakfast together every morning. Where I can once again see the pattern of their habits and they can learn the direction that mine have taken in the years that I have been away. We can re-familiarize ourselves with all the nuances of the hearts and minds that mean the most to us. It is a place of us. I miss us.
That was a ramble of the sub-conscious. Now, a few pictures from the Syracuse Airport:
The words that come to mind are:
segregation
delay
bandaged due to damage
unfit to live
compiled
denied
left
lost?
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