The danger occurs when it does go on for years or more; it sits unresolved and gets buried -- but it's never gone. The symptom is that the longing for "home" comes up from time to time. On the other hand it has to be differentiated from affection, even a strong affection. But the remedy could be as simple as: go for a visit.
As this blog records I involuntarily left familiar friends, home and culture for a place less welcome to me in all regards. (I want to emphasize "to me" because at least one of my Midland friends wound up in a place that would be difficult for me, but for what little I know of it and him today, it seems a perfect fit. And that's good.) And I made accommodations, but it still came out from time to time (as I see I posted on Friday, 8th paragraph).
And I had thought about visiting, but if everyone I knew was gone what was the purpose? A lot of time and expense just to take some pictures? Not worth it, says the old Scotch heart, "bang goes saxpence!"*
Until I happened to learn last winter about the reunion through Classmates. And hoo-boy, did that ever wake the sleeping dragon! Do I go, or not? What about this, what about that? The expense, the expense...
Well, you know the outcome. We came. We were welcomed, and it was more than great to see Lynda in person again, to meet Dr. Rich(ard) Youle**, and more -- but the tipping point came when this woman walks up to me ("who is she? who is she? her face is familiar! i should know her name, but what is it...?"), addresses me by name and adds, "I'm Margo Lyon."
Kathy will tell you, at that moment I was undone. At home. Back with long-lost friends.
Thank you, Margo!
But for all this was a major part of the visit, it wasn't all of it. I had to see how Midland had changed. Part I had seen already when we entered town at the south end of Saginaw where AAA gave us a map of Midland about a half-century more recent than mine. Kathy laughed when I said it but had to agree as we drove up Saginaw that this was "the El Camino Real of Midland"; the reference is to a road that runs up the SF Peninsula with an unending mish-mosh of establishments of retail, restaurants, repair (all kinds) and rest (i.e. motels).
I'll talk about the changes more in later posts but what was clear that first day, Friday, was that Midland had changed a lot. I still had to learn how much.
Already it was plainly evident that the town I recalled was, to no surprise, long since gone. The question ahead was, and remains, how much remains? I do not yet have anything like a full answer.
But the cure for "home" had begun. The jumble of memories tossed hastily into drawers could now be pulled out, dusted off, reviewed, and put away cleanly.
And now, while today's Midland recedes in increasing miles behind me on my journey away, so does yesterday's Midland recede increasingly back to the time when it belongs, more precious than anyplace before or since but still... gone forever.
* Looking up a reference for the phrase I ran into this:
Near Berwick-upon-Tweed, I was reduced to smiling and chuckling inanely at a gas station attendant who was obviously trying to be friendly, and who was otherwise entirely incomprehensible.
A mile or so further on, there came a sign: "Last Pub in England." It drew a laugh - the first pub in Scotland was all of a mile away, and anyway, both were closed - but a slightly hollow one. The joke would be a painful one if I could not understand a word of the interviews I had scheduled.
Kathy will laugh at this because we were this exact place in 1996 and saw those signs.
** Dr. Youle, for many years one of my committees have met in your general neighborhood, I think; in Germantown MD, in the spring. IF that continues (it's not certain), maybe we could meet some evening. OTOH, I am occasionally at meetings at NIST.
No comments:
Post a Comment