Days gone by

We are taking our adventure (deep) south this week. We left Oklahoma on Monday with a stop in Little Rock, Arkansas to visit my aunt and uncle.

We had a lovely time catching up with them, laughing, enjoying a few bottles of wine, and just sharing our adventures with each other. It was wonderful and made me realize how blessed I really am with the family I have. I always learn new little bits about my dad and his brothers and sister, the extensive family of great aunts and uncles, and the grandparents.

We wanted so badly to stay another night but our schedule is a little tighter on this leg of the trip. People are waiting at different points along the way and we don't want to just put them off.

When we left, however, I became inexplicably sad. Tears began coursing down my face and I had to stare intently out the window so Scott wouldn't see me crying. It wasn't that I was ashamed of crying, it's just that I didn't know why I was crying.

As we drove from Little Rock, headed towards Oxford, Mississippi a tear would escape every now and again. I would say it was random but I think the sheer force of trying not to burst into tears that allowed one or a few to escape. I began to piece it together as we made the drive from Arkansas to north Mississippi--it was the drive I made the year I was away at Ole Miss. I know there is all kinds of speculation among my family about why I left after that one year. Some think I simply didn't like it there but that just isn't the case. Some think I went back home for Scott but, again, not really the case. It just wasn't a simple thing and it was an incredibly difficult decision to make at 19 years old. It was, and I have told Scott this, the pivotal decision of my life where I clearly saw things split before me. Other decisions of my life have come relatively easy compared to that one. Apparently that decision still affects me deeply in ways I was not fully aware of nor quite prepared to deal with.

My uncle and aunt live in Oxford. It is perhaps the prettiest college town anywhere. There is a charm and community feeling, a feeling of safety, that just pervades this lovely place. I still feel a deep sense of "home" here, even so many years later. That was what drew me here in the first place at 17 years old when I was test driving schools. I completely understand why my family is here and, to some degree, envy their being here. We took Scott to one of my favorite places in town, Ajax Diner. The taste of real southern sweet tea...heavenly. (Note to self--buy a good pitcher for sweet tea once landed) My uncle and I would meet there for lunch irregularly when I was a student, catching each other between classes and meetings to simply say hi and enjoy a po' boy, which is exactly what I ordered this evening.

My uncle tonight told me, "We sure wish it had worked out. We truly enjoyed having you around." It took everything in me not to just burst into those lurking tears. Instead, I nodded and looked out the window until I had myself back under control, as I thought, "Oh, me too."

Now, I'm not a sentimentalist but there is something about leaving something undone that just gets to me. It is as though I have unfinished business here. A ghost of the past still lingers here, calling me, pulling me. But we can't go back. We can't take a mulligan. We simply pick up, hold up, and keep moving.

Maybe I'm just getting older and want to be closer to my family. (Why do they have to live in such hot and humid places?) I am incredibly grateful for these few days we get to spend with my family.

As Scott said, "It's nice to deepen those roots before branching out again."

I couldn't have said it better.