my vacation started yesterday afternoon.
my mom and i loaded up her little car, swiped through the panera drive-thru for turkey sandwiches, and hopped onto I55-N -- my favorite interstate around these parts because it means CHICAGO ... it means home.
but we passed chicago right up and kept on 'til we pulled into the driveway of my grandparents charming small-town indiana home hidden right in the middle of 50 acres of woods and grass and deer and skunks and barns and creeks. my grandparents have the perfect grandma & grandpa home. its dreamy and charming and welcoming and comfy.
i spent last night sitting and talking with them about life and movies and jewelry and seattle sutton diet heh and funny memories from when my cousins and i were little. they asked about school and my boyfriend and when i might move back into the area. my grams recently injured her knee, so she's hangin' out in a wheelchair for a few days. my aunt and two favorite cousins came over and all of us girls watched a movie dan in real life watch it, you'll love it while my gramps played on my mama's iPad.
this morning i woke among six feathered pillows, beneath a heavy floral quilt, fan humming softly, and the dreery morning sunshine poking beneath the window shades ... satisfied by my rested body & mind.
now i sit in the cafe of the local starbucks.
towns that aren't home are some of the best places to be sometimes. no one knows me or wants to know me.
people stare at my hair, and when i catch them they smile sheepishly and then turn and whisper to their friend.
i kinda like it. it's silly.
i can order my double tall soy latte with 1 raw sugar and be whoever i want to be, write whatever i want to write, and not think about school work or chapters to read or schedules to make work or deadlines to meet or practices to make.
i can sit in my grandparents back living room, surrounded by walls of window panes, the green, damp earth, trees, and patio's just outside and revel in the relaxation of their home and my history.
familiar places are sweet.
nostalgia is refreshing and emotional.
the remembrance of one's history is rich.
and although i am always creating my future, my past is where my spirit and confidence and boldness has grown from.
my grandparents are the ones who raised my parents who raised me.
those grassy fields and slate hallways are where i learned to love my family ...
cherishing the spirituality and kindness and tradition that was constantly between us.
tonight i'll go to chicago to have dinner with a good friend & spend the remainder of the weekend with HIM. i'll move from remembering who i am, to the part of life that is creating who i will be.
life is rich.
i am rich.
p.s. walgreens shopping list:
- pick up pictures
- new straightener
- tooth paste