"I'd like to thank my family, they know me and they love me anyway." - Tom Waits
That night, Pa hosted a little grill out that turned into a real affair. Everyone was was there with their most precious gift for me; their time. Amid the brats and taco salad, the beer and cake, I heard laughter in person and stories that have been told dozens of times. They have grown more outrageous with each telling. They're tall tales now, soon to be legends.
It was a really good week. I mean really, really good.
This past winter had all but sucked the life from me; 88 inches of snow and temperatures that have kept the brass monkeys in storage for way longer than they should be. Hibernation is fine, but this was rigoddamdiculous. Add to the equation the extreme isolation that amounted to nothing but boredom, cynicism, and paranoia. I ain't gonna lie...my spirit was in bad shape.
Two friends that I've known for the longest time were nice enough to come visit for the weekend before my birthday, the best gift they ever could've given. I was under water, and this visit was a snorkel. I took their time here as an excuse to throw a little dinner party with some acquaintances that may well be budding friendships. Good food, good drink, good company, and weather that was good enough to allow us to feed on fajitas out on the deck. Nothing pleases me more than to share food with people, and to hear their stories while slowly getting drunk on craft beer and a surprise bottle of Woodford Reserve bourbon.
At the end of the weekend, I followed my friends back down to my hometown for 5 days of catching up. It was a long drive. Emotional. It started to rain just as I was leaving, small drops falling slowly. Not even enough to merit the intermittent setting on the wipers. The further along I got, the brighter the sky seemed. Warming temperatures. During the 5 hours in the car I listened to music that reminded me of mom, of leaving home, of visiting mountains, and riding two abreast on fire roads. Growing up and growing old. Arriving back at my former home, the sun was setting in a panoply of orange hues. You gotta remember that it never rains everyday, and all storm clouds eventually break up and let the sun through.
For some reason Pa had all the windows closed in the house, but hadn't turned on the air. These are the sort of conditions that cause the bowl of hard candy on the coffee table to all weld together. I must have turned into a true northerner because it wasn't five minutes before I had taken off my jeans and situated myself to where the fan was blowing up my leg.
That was nothing.
My birthday boasted a record breaking temperature for that day in history, 97 degrees. Normally I'm well prepared for trips but man, did my planning suck for this one. My suitcase held only long pants and for some reason I had every pair of wool socks I own. No idea what the hell I was thinking. Truth is, I wasn't thinking.
I woke on my birthday morning in the same bedroom I occupied in high school and college. No alarm. No schedule. I was sleepy enough to wonder if I had somehow transported myself back to 1977 when my parents slept in this room, laying mere feet from where mom and I had shared our gift of breakfast in bed three decades earlier. I touched my face...the beard was still there, it's 2011. I went back to sleep for another hour.
I have vague recollections of the birthday when my brother made me close my eyes so he could carry me outside and put me on my first brand new BMX bike, and my 16th when Pa handed me the keys to the family car so I could go pick up pizza, and even fewer memories of my 21st when I got blitzed in the traditional bar crawl right of passage. This birthday I'll remember till the day I die, in exhaustive, vivid detail.
It started with a latte and a visit to the cemetery where I played my guitar for mom, and took in the view the bluffs in the distance. Sitting there by myself I finally let it all out with a heave and a sob. Ah, release. I just talked to her, remembered, and played songs. The wave of memories washed over me with tsunami force and I just let them come. There were belly laughs and tears, sometimes simultaneously. I asked her for forgiveness, guidance, and blessings before going off for a nice, long lunch.
So many gifts, the kind that take up no space in the car.
I've been gone for awhile, but I'm back now. Watch your ass.
Everybody needs a wingman.
ReplyDeleteThe only two birthdays that I remember clearly are an early one (12 or 13 i think) where my dad got pissed at me, canceled my pizza party and I ended up pulling weeds in the garden till well after dark.
ReplyDeleteThe other one was my 21st when I drove from home from Maryville to have dinner with my mom and step-dad at an Outback Steakhouse. Nothing spectacular, but the next day we were suppose to have friends over for a small bbq. That changed when my mom got the call that her mom had collapsed suddenly at home. By the time the medics got there (the fire station was literally across the street), they said she was already gone.