Monday, June 15, 2009

The Kid's Alright: Part I

This beautifully written post at blackink's site reminded me of how time passes us by a little too quickly...

This weekend I attended my eighteenth year high school reunion - the prequel to our official twentieth reunion. As I was viewing everyone through a drug induced haze (Claritin-D Non-drowsy my ass), one thought kept reverberating in my mind: Where did the time go?

During the last two years of high school I could not wait to get out of my hometown. Eighteen years later I find myself feeling the exact same way. I returned home last November with my daughter to live with my mother. Leaving my friends and the city that I now consider home was difficult, but it seemed like the wise thing to do.

After the break-up/flight/removal of ex by the PoPo, my family and I had a series of discussions. The rationale behind the return went like this: Temporary, it's only temporary! It will give you a break from all of the chaos and stress! You'll be able to recuperate from the nuclear bomb that was just lobbed onto your finances! You can commute without giving up your career, the baby's daycare! Most importantly, it will give you a chance to help out your mom! So, I moved home.

Big mistake.

There is nothing inherently wrong with my hometown (once you get past it's dying industrial townness, fuckall to do, pervasive use of scrunchies, hair gel, and general ass backwardness). Kidding... I actually have a lot of fond memories of this place. Unfortunately, most of these memories involve my father who died a few years ago. Being here in this house without him is difficult. Seeing my daughter and realizing that she will never have memories of him makes it even more so.

I have helped my mom in some ways, but she has helped me a lot more. Patience is not learned til it is tried, and lord knows we have tried one another's. As my time here draws to a close, I have been taking a serious inventory of myself (based on reunion pics, my ass is entirely too large) and the direction my life is headed. Like Mr. Cooke sang, "A Change is Gonna Come." But, first I will be taking a look back at the roads I probably shouldn't have travelled. Hindsight is a bitch.

Too be continued...


  1. Since I have been home, I feel myself beginning to grow again. I've spent the last few days tracing my footsteps and suddenly it occurs to me what path I must now take.

  2. Max, I know what you mean. Really I do.