Heylala's Blah, Blah, Blah

How happy is the blameless vestal's lot! The world forgetting, by the world forgot. Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind! Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd. No, fly me, fly me, far as pole from pole; Rise Alps between us! and whole oceans roll! Ah, come not, write not, think not once of me, Nor share one pang of all I felt for thee. An excerpt from "Eloisa to Abelard" by Alexander Pope

Friday, March 24, 2006

Home

Today I sat at the bookstore a couple of tables near a group of senior ladies. They were laughing and drinking coffee. I purposely wanted to be near them to just feel something new and good. I was somewhat reading and periodically glanced up to see what they were doing. I secretly wondered if any one of them wanted to adopt a grand child. I thought maybe I would make a good granddaughter. As I watched them I realized I wanted a grandmother. I also wanted a mother. That is a mean thing to say because I have a mom. I see her almost every weekend. However, our relationship has always been that I have been the adult and she has been the child. It's carried on that way for so long that it's just a habit. I don't know how I would interact with her in any other way. Recently I tried to talk to her about something deeply personal and very important to me. She shut me down. Her own fears of how what I was feeling would effect her made it impossible to share my heart with her. I was upset by the encounter, but it was nothing new. I long for a place you see in the movies. An old southern plantation full of life and history. It would be warm, inviting and charming. A place I could retreat to and learn to quilt or cook. A place that is peaceful and settled. A place that has family. A place that feels like home.

From Garden State by Zack Braff
Andrew Largemen: "You know that point in your life when you realize that the house that you grew up in isn't really your home anymore? All of the sudden even though you have some place where you can put your stuff that idea of home is gone."
Sam: "I still feel at home in my house."
Andrew Largeman: "You'll see when you move out it just sort of happens one day and it's just gone. And you can never get it back. It's like you get homesick for a place that doesn't exist. I mean it's like this rite of passage, you know. You won't have this feeling again until you create a new idea of home for yourself, you know, for you kids, for the family you start, it's like a cycle or something. I miss the idea of it. Maybe that's all family really is. A group of people who miss the same imaginary place."