I should be headed home.

I’ve got a boring and very long six hour drive ahead of me, where my only companions will be road and trees. And yet, I still find myself unable to turn back onto the highway. Unable to stop turning from one street to another- searching, hoping for some memory to appear. It’s almost pathetic to think one would, I barely remember this side of town, but it’s where you called home for several decades. Of course, I didn’t know you then, I wasn’t even a thought yet. But I’m so devoid of my own memories that instead I am trying to recreate ones that I wasn’t even a part of.

So I continue to drive- past your high school, past your old home. Because the feeling of loss has hit me so hard in this moment, that I need a memory to tether me back to reality.

***** I wrote this several years ago after a trip to Alabama. If I ever am able to get it together to add more… well who knows. A short novel? A book of essays? Or just ramblings. Either way, this beginning- this little bit of writing has been dying to get out of my head and into actual written words. And since his birthday is tomorrow (July 24th) I felt it fitting to finally type these words today.

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