Tuesday, April 2, 2013

Upon Returning


Like most things the anticipation was worse than the event.  The return was fraught with worries about ruining it.  Taking the good, trying to do too much, capturing another year in a four-day stretch.

But the return is also filled with things to do, meetings to attend, work to get done.

There is a familiarity.  I find my Oyster card in the bottom of a desk drawer.  I write down my Barclay's bank card number on a piece of paper in my wallet.  I find my meetings by walking down vaguely familiar streets that come alive with memories as we pass a pub.  Like college campus after a long time away I re-discover places I once knew.  I stumble on new treasures.  If there is time I find a new path.

And then there is a trip back to the swim club where so many nights were spent.  The smell of the chlorine, the wood in the coffee shop brings me there again.  I suspected I would be sad, but I'm not.  My heart fills, like seeing the kids after they've been away at camp for seven weeks.  A friend from long ago.  I am glad to be there and the happiness lingers.

When we first returned home the cold water of life had the potential to ruin all the good from the previous year.  The memories and moments soaked by the frustrations of day-to-day suburbia.  The return brings them back to life and reminds us of how we lived and how we were happy with less space and more time.

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