Friday, December 10, 2010

It Gets Worse

I am on sister duty this weekend.  My parents are away for the weekend so I am on water and food fetching (she is 29 weeks pregnant and on bed rest) and nephew wrangling detail.  I don't mind at all.  I love that little bug and how he calls me Andie.  He used to call me Nana Annie.  I miss that. 

I'm staying at my parent's house because my sister's is small and I don't sleep on couches well.  Driving the foggy roads from my sister's to my parent's I remembered being sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, driving these same roads.  I was so lost then.  Or at least I thought so.  There is a long road that winds its way up from the bottom of this city to the top.  I used to drive it late at night, music blaring from the speakers in my '87 Honda Accord. 

Halfway up the hill if you take a right and then wend your way back to a specific corner in a certain neighborhood there is a lookout.  I used to go there late at night, sit on the wall, look over the city and think about leaving, about being a different person, one who fit in, who read less, who didn't eat lunch in the library, who had a better nose, who didn't get called speed bump all through junior high for that nose.  I thought that was as bad as life got.  I couldn't peel back my teenage blinders to see that life can, and does, get significantly worse. 

I drove past the lookout tonight.  I think I was looking for my seventeen-year-old self.  I want to find her, grab her shoulders, warn her of what is to come.  There was a creepy guy standing at the turnoff to the lookout.  I drove past, turned left, drove past the park where my best friend and I used to sit and talk.  We dreamed of better lives, of leaving, of living in a place devoid of the people we grew up with.  I don't speak with her anymore.  I don't speak with anyone from this town anymore. 

I have lost so much in this life, but the small losses pale in comparison to what I lost this year.  Back then, all those years ago, ten or more now, what I wanted was to be other, different, changed.  And now that I've changed, now that I have to remind myself that I like salad, rain, driving in the fog with the music blaring, and yes, life even, I want to tell that selfish lost girl that morphing into someone else entirely ain't all it's cracked up to be.

The tears fall often these days.  I miss her - my baby girl, my seventeen year old self, the me before she died.



    

4 comments:

  1. We are so on the same wavelength! And have so much in common. I send you strength as you care for your sister and nephew and I will be thinking of you!

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  2. I'm so with you here. I have been thinking a lot about who I was before and the things that I thought used to suck, There is no way to express how much I would rather have those worries back in place of mine now. (((hugs)))

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  3. Yes, so much missing, me too Angela, me too.

    Sending you love and strength today, as always.

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  4. We all miss that former self don't we? There is just so much that comes with the loss.

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thank you!

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