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Wanderlust
May. 11th, 2012 01:01 amI've been walking around in this fog of flashbacks for the last few weeks.
Sunday is Mother's Day and my Mom's birthday.
It's been raining for the whole week and the weather is so much like summer in Maine that it's just killing me.
I don't know what it is about this time of year, but I start absolutely aching for fall and the scent of wet leaves in the air and New England.
I miss the Atlantic. I miss riding the Amtrak down to Boston. I miss my job at William Arthur. I miss the way the air blowing through the birch trees in the White Mountains smells.
I miss seeing all those things with my Mom.
When I think about how much time has passed, it still blows my mind. She would like my life, I think. She would like my friends, she would like my house, she would like Joe. But I miss her. I miss spending time with her. The fact is, half my friends are scattered across the east coast and the other half are so busy with their lives that I never get to see them. Joe and I do a lot together, and that's wonderful, but I'm not going to drag him to the mall. I miss having someone to do girl stuff with.
The memories just keep flooding back and catching me off guard with their full on technicolor vividness. Walking down the dirt road I lived on to pick up the mail. Driving through the Old Port. The crows outside my window. Driving the back roads to take Mom to her doctor's appointments. Sitting on my bed and trash talking the contestants on American Idol with my Mom. Riding in the elevator in the hospital and the sterile smell of it. Watching the snow through the windows and feeling like we're inside a snow globe. . .
I haven't left Texas in almost two years. I've left the Austin area for a grand total of two times in that time, to visit Rockport and Joe's grandma. I've spent my whole life traveling up and down the east coast, visiting different states, cities, interesting little towns. As much as I love Austin, I just want to run away with Joe and go someplace ELSE.
Sunday is Mother's Day and my Mom's birthday.
It's been raining for the whole week and the weather is so much like summer in Maine that it's just killing me.
I don't know what it is about this time of year, but I start absolutely aching for fall and the scent of wet leaves in the air and New England.
I miss the Atlantic. I miss riding the Amtrak down to Boston. I miss my job at William Arthur. I miss the way the air blowing through the birch trees in the White Mountains smells.
I miss seeing all those things with my Mom.
When I think about how much time has passed, it still blows my mind. She would like my life, I think. She would like my friends, she would like my house, she would like Joe. But I miss her. I miss spending time with her. The fact is, half my friends are scattered across the east coast and the other half are so busy with their lives that I never get to see them. Joe and I do a lot together, and that's wonderful, but I'm not going to drag him to the mall. I miss having someone to do girl stuff with.
The memories just keep flooding back and catching me off guard with their full on technicolor vividness. Walking down the dirt road I lived on to pick up the mail. Driving through the Old Port. The crows outside my window. Driving the back roads to take Mom to her doctor's appointments. Sitting on my bed and trash talking the contestants on American Idol with my Mom. Riding in the elevator in the hospital and the sterile smell of it. Watching the snow through the windows and feeling like we're inside a snow globe. . .
I haven't left Texas in almost two years. I've left the Austin area for a grand total of two times in that time, to visit Rockport and Joe's grandma. I've spent my whole life traveling up and down the east coast, visiting different states, cities, interesting little towns. As much as I love Austin, I just want to run away with Joe and go someplace ELSE.
