We took the wooded cut-through to the park. It was Art Fest at the old school house where Mimi and I would go to play teacher. Art Fest where, who knows how many tens of years ago, my parents bought two giant paintings that then hung in my mother's office for years. We saw lizards and talked cicada exoskeletons, a total nightmare climbing a tree and turning the branch to see your face right in front of a ghost cicada. Horrifying. We got lunch from Safeway like we did as kids, like we did when we ran away that one time. We ate our boxed sushi, tamarinds and goldfish at a picnic table at the playground on the hill above the field where my baby soccer team, "Quick Silver" (someones dad picked the name, we wanted to be the Purple Manatees) practiced. We swung on the swings where I went so high I might have been able to do a full 360 flip around, it's easier to pump with grown up legs, no need to be pushed by my dad. Hearing kids on that spinning roundabout thing saying, "I'm gonna push us really hard and then jump on!!!" Taking another secret path from the field through the woods that we made for our walk home from the bus stop at the playground parking lot.
The house felt smaller now that I was taller, but the stair runner remained the same. I wish I could take my shoes off one more time just to slip on socks down those stairs, give me a rug burn that I can take home with me. A scab I'd pick until it scarred so it'd be there forever. So I'd be there forever. Bathrooms and kitchen appliances had been updated, our hot pink fireplace painted white. The epic cilarium was pruned, plants potted and a fish tank added, it's okay though, they glistened enough to be forgiven. As a kid being tucked in at night my mom would say, "see you in dream land!" and I'd say, "let's meet at the fish tank." in another life, it was right there. We haven't spoken in over a year now, maybe it's time to find that fishtank and finally sort things out.
We moved when I was nine; it's been 19 years, but being there, it felt like no time had passed. I wanted to dive into that dark blue pool, I wanted to dig up the dog grave for Humphry over the creeks edge buried by the previous owners. He haunted us but never let us drown. I hope he was a good dog. There was wisteria, and there were weirdo statues we put there now covered in moss. We were mischievous kids; my brother and I would break into, I'm not joking, break into our next-door neighbor's house and play with their toys, steal their toys, choke on their sugar cereal that we weren't allowed to have, I crashed their golf cart and walked away. Seven-year-olds shouldn't drive. I remembered getting locked out on the balcony attached to my room. Merril and I came to the conclusion that we would have to jump off in order to survive. We might break our legs, but it had to be done. Everything felt diar, everything felt like we'd never age past age ten. My once yellow walls are now white with a connecting walk-in closet I would kill to have today. The closet where I cried while being reprimanded over an unwalkable clothes-covered floor. If I had that closet today, you still wouldn't be able to see the floor. My messy habits haven't changed or even faded in the slightest.
Being home awoke a new perspective in me, I learned so much living here, I learned how to fend for myself in nature if I ever got caught in a rainstorm, even though running into a storm was always voluntary, I knew where to hide. I was free to decorate my room how I wanted, I was free to wear what I wanted, I was free! I grew up here, and so did everyone else. My parents, my siblings, Mimi when she visited, Mrs. Powers our bus driver, the Dellasolas down the road, that old guy who hosted a screening of Peter Pan and served DIY ice cream sundaes for the whole neighborhood. We were all experiencing life for the first time, maybe we all deserve a little bit of grace. My childhood had hiccups, as they all do, but it was nothing short of incredible.
We rounded out the visit at Great Falls park where families picniced, grilled their sunday dinners and threw frisbees, dogs off leash, I picked weeds and pressed them into my sketchbook, I watercolored the falls and fell victim to a waterfall selfie. There was time I was full of rage, I would have jumped, allowed myself to be pummeled by the current. Now I want to float, hit rapids with a smile on my face in some blowup boat surrounded by friends and family. This weekend rebirthed me, spring sprung and got me ready to bloom again.
Xo, O
