music: Tom Waits- Alice
Back in Boston after a long Thanksgiving weekend in Milwaukee. This year has been a torrent of activity and emotion, an unrelenting barrage of people and experience. I came back more tired than I arrived, but that is ok. Thanksgiving was spent well this year, although I found that I spread myself very thin trying to make time for as many people as I could. I would have, ideally, liked to spend a good hour or so with everyone I saw this weekend 1-on-1, but given the time constraints I was impressed with how much I got in. I know some really great people.
Spending time with family continues to be a more positive experience as my sisters get older. I have allies and companions at family events now; dinners that used to be tedious and unbearable are now much more lively and engaging. And even though I have very limited time with my cousins, it is always great to see them. I spent a good afternoon plus with the J’s, and Aunts L. and E. this weekend. This year was bittersweet, as it was the first time we assembled for Thanksgiving without Grandma. We took a good amount of time going through Grandma’s stuff at her apartment which was a tough thing to do for us, but important. All things considered, Grandma did not own a lot of stuff so the job was not an overwhelming one, but an act that required a lot of emotional push. How does one properly move a family heirloom into a box? How does one rightfully lay claim to these objects, these constants, that were not ours but will always be a reminder of a loved one? We that remain assumed possession of few of her things that had meaning for us: pots and pans, some of her pictures on the wall, assorted trinkets, necklaces and jewlery for the girls. I personally didn’t take much: a red plastic cup (the ones we always drank from-each of the grandkids got one) and a framed Breughel print that I’m told was my dad’s favorite. It hangs in my room now. Her apartment of over 30 years is being cleaned out, the remnants of her life are now boxed up or given away, and we have our memories and a few odd trinkets. Grandma is no longer here, but I think I’ve grown into a new appreciation for my cousins and aunts in the process of missing her.
While there was a requisite camp gathering on Saturday night, it was not the unabashedly wild and positive experience that it has been in the past. I suppose that I’m no longer part of that immediate world having been out for five years now and that I’m more concerned with the people I met through camp than a social circle centered on that place. I got a chance to visit with Doctor Dray and P-rock, always nice to check in with them, as well as friends from my own LT year: Gehl and Nick. Gehl I’ve seen a little more frequently but I haven’t seen Nick in some years. He is now married (!) and with 10-month old son (!!!) but still made it out for a beer. We didn’t have overwhelming amounts to talk about — I suppose given the time and drift that is to be expected — but it was still great to just be around them. Nick continues to be one of the most down-to-earth and nicest human beings I know. Enough time has passed such that these camp friends of mine have beome just…friends. They are all wonderful people.
The Minikani rendezvous was superceded in many ways by the serendipity common to nights out in Milwaukee: a core group of my high school friends were out at the same place. Because so many of the camp people at the gathering were strangers to me (too young for me to have interactions with them at camp), I ducked out of that scene to spend time with my friends from high school. It was excellent. We gathered the previous night as well and spent some good time together (as well as some scattered encounters with past classmates we would never think to talk to given the choice). I felt, at times, like I was 16 again, except with beer. The group of guys I became friends with in high school are an astounding bunch: intelligent, witty (sometimes too witty for our own good), amicable, outrageous when we gather. We have matured since we graduated, yes, and we all find ourselves in different places, but I was consistently astounded to find that we could all gather and reconnect without a hitch, we could really pick up right where we left off last. It is a low-maintnence, high-octane group. We had a great amount of fun, and I had some pretty sappy nostalgic moments. At one point four of us found ourselves together for the first time since Thanksgiving weekend of senior year, when we made a tradition of driving up to Terry Andrae State Park the Wednesday before the holiday and camping out in the freezing cold for the night. Two of the most memorable nights of high school for me, and the fact that we found ourselves together seven or eight years later on the same weekend was astounding to me. Not everyone was in town, but we had a critical mass. It was wonderful.
As I sit and turn over the weekend in my head, I’m reminded of a line from a song by Reid Genauer that I’ve never heard, but a line AJM has repeated so much I feel intimate with it: “We live in and of each other; We will remain.” It is someting of which I am much more aware after spending four or so days with people from my past, from my childhood and adolescence. We share things with all our friends, but there is a familiarity with our family and friends from growing up that is unmatched. I haven’t felt so comfortable as I had this weekend since I last joined company with these people. In my never-ending quest to push forward into the new and explore, I should be mindful of this. Me and my family, me and my friends from growing up: we live in and of each other. It’s a beautiful thing.
I find myself right now back in Boston, refusing to get real until tomorrow morning when my present catches back up with me. There is a storm of reality on the horizon; Mr. Taus will have to re-emerge tomorrow to confront that storm, but his message is somewhat affected by this past weekend. He will tell his high school students to cherish and celebrate the friends they are making, as while there are friends to be made and people to meet in the future, something about those you know while growing up is essential to the fabric of a person. To all I had the pleasure of seeing this weekend: thank you. We live in and of each other. We will remain.
Posted by davidtaus at November 28, 2004 10:34 PM
