there and back

After nearly a month away, it's hard to know where to begin. I got a bit fired up the other night and wrote about the transition from where I was raised to the home I chose. I hadn't fully settled back in. Now I have. Now I can appreciate every ounce that is Missoula. Now I can move on, look back, and try to gather some thoughts for posterity. While I didn't bring a camera, it's seemed so large, so extranneous on such a big journey, I do have my words. And a few shots my mom took. Cuz that's what mom's do.


We had a tremendous trip. Spent the first action packed week in New Jersey. Top five memories include Eliana rocking the Jersey shore, eyes like tremendous, excited orbs as she ran from one carnival ride to the next, a rocket ship to a crazy school bus to flying alligators. We then found ourselves playing in the Atlantic, Sol would race wildly towards the waves with his usual unabashed style, me waiting at the water's edge to catch him. Jack tossed Elie above the waves. Anabel and Kelli cruised the shore a bit more gently. Gini and Roseann laughed and waved and cheered.

A lunch in NYC with my two best friends from elementary school. It's been 25 years. Facebook finds us face to face at a new, swanky restaurant in the village. As if a minute hadn't gone by. They looked exactly the same. We could have stayed all day. All night. I didn't want it to end. Too many details to fill in, expand on, recreate. Thank you, ladies. Thank you, thank you for being part of my full circle.

Another Eliana's face moment as we came up the stairs from Penn Station, landing smack dab in the middle of Manhattan. Perhaps that wild naivete is in part where the aforementioned rant came from. My girl's born and bred in Montana. Bright lights, honking cabs, hustle and bustle, it's all new. Thank goodness for our belief in travel, our bi-coastal family, our connection to our roots to keep her world a bit more open.

Chillin' in Jeff's folks house. Looking at old pictures. Remembering the first time I visited his family in New Jersey. How simple things were. How obvious it was to me that I was in love with a man who was very loved. Adored. Soli and Anabel on the staircase, hands wrapped around the bars like little jailbirds, singing their, "AHHHHHH's!" Morty in his chair telling Eliana to Watch the Baby! The bittersweetness that is age and change and the unknown.

The night of the Long Island wedding. A ten-piece cover band with all my favorite jams. A set of babysitters with our children in the hotel room. Full bar. Dance floor. An unabashed commitment to their Michael Jackson medley. That feeling in my being that screamed, I love to move with my whole self! No one here needs me! I am free in my body to move and thrash and swing and sing and hopefully they'll be asleep when we return.

Then we crossed the country on a coupla planes, Mama and her two babes. We all rose to the occasion. The hours and snacks and waltz up and down the aisles. The crayons and etch-a-sketch and DVD player that never seems to last a fraction of the time I need. I looked at the rest of the passengers with envy, their nifty gadgets all compact and high-tech. Next time, I swear.

Then it was back to my home land. The sunshine and freeways. The colors and textures of home. Our time in L.A. was a bit less razz-ma-tazz, a bit more down home. Logged some good play time in my mama's condo. Watched her fall in love with big Sol and his toothy grin, his bonked head, his lover's lips. Took an African dance class and went out for drinks. Laughed hard and loud. Checked my phone ten thousand times to see if the kids were up. They slept and we stayed out. Freedom, baby. I'm a sucker.

Spent the weekend at my sister's beach home. Logged a rockin' beach day with a plethora of sand toys, sunscreen bottles, savory snacks. Took a much needed swim in the sweet Pacific. Again, just my body and the rhythm of the waves. A lifetime of memory and comfort, the hops and dives and tune of the sea. The first dip of my head beneath the water. The satisfied saunter back up the beach upon completion. Such a strong part of who I am those ocean waves.

And mainly just enjoying the vibe of where I'm from and the people I love. South Pasadena on the Fourth? Nothing like it. The pancake breakfast at the fire house, the goofy poster contest and parade down Mission? Love it. The way Eliana got right in the mix all naked and wild in the slip and slide bouncer at the park? The best.

Light night talks with my mom. Early afternoon cocktails with my mom. Random errands around town with my mom. How she knows me so, so well. How I think she's the coolest. And Hil and her incredible studio and commitment to art and community and potential. I come from some tremendous stock. I am so proud of my people.


My friend Melissa reminded me the other day that for as much as I love Missoula, I gave up a whole hell of a lot to be here. I come back to that comment a lot. Thanks, sister. I already owe you like a grand for Verizon therapy. It's nice that most of my people seem to have advanced degrees in some form of psychology. I seem to need a bit more professional help these days. It's a lot. The kids and the jobs and the husband and the reintegration of selves. The passions and creativity and choices and chaos. The exhaustion. The work. The love. A whole heck of a lot.

This time.