I have been away from my childhood for many years now; past the college years , a marriage, a divorce, singlehood (singledom?) and yet…
For 20 plus years I have visited my parents in Texas, not my childhood home– but when I’m there, it seems that childhood is right there, just over my shoulder. Now the years have passed and time is catching up with everyone. My step-dad has been in poor health for several years, and Mom has become very ill with no cure and a difficult road ahead.
So I find myself back in Texas; to be with her, with my family, with my childhood. Sitting here now, I feel like I can see it all slipping away too. When I’ve been here before, we’ve had our traditions; lunch and shopping at Hester’sand the Bleu Frog, or books and coffee at Half-Price Books or Barnes & Noble and Starbucks. This trip though, I’m running errands, helping with tasks they can no longer do, taking care of them; and longing for past trips.
Today, I drove past the bookstore and heard it calling out to me. But I couldn’t stop; mom is at home, tied to an oxygen machine, and I don’t think I can go without her. It wouldn’t be right, or the same–even though she wants me to go and see our sights, visit our places. The Universe would be crooked and something would be lost, or less than it should; it would feel wrong for me to be there without her.