#19

February 9, 2008 – Wrapping It all Up

I wanted to wait a coupla days before I wrote this final entry to let things set a bit. There’s still a lot to say, the question is whether I can properly say it.

But I’ll start where I last left off: Ozona, Texas. Our final short drive home was largely uneventful, except for my delight to learn that 290 hit I-10 west of San Antonio & I would be able to get back to San Marcos through Fredericksburg and the fluffy Hill Country west on 290 to RR12 in Drippin’ and avoid I-35 entirely. I-35 woulda really killed my buzz. And, also to my delight, it’s warm here. I didn’t enjoy the cold nearly as much as Megan did. But we got 70 degrees and blue skies. And, best of all, now that I’ve fallen in love with the desert, I can see it here too – the colors of the soil and the rock, the lines of the strata. Megan noticed it too and we pondered the mystery of why it’s sometimes so hard to see the beauty at home all around you.

And at home, things had been happening. Good news, for once. A message on my machine from the lady at the store where I left my wallet; it had been turned in & they were happy to put it in the mail to me. And then messages from Dale, my stock guy. Something had happened with one of mom’s companies & instead of the stock I now had $28,000 in my cash account and what did I want him to do with it? Funny you should mention that, Dale…..I think I need to go to the Keys….

And then, an email from my uncle….he’s going to Hawaii & do I want to go? Well, darn, Volcano National Park? Can I really refuse?

But there’s still so much more…

How after finding where my old dorms in Yosemite used to be & learning they had washed away, Megan & I were at lunch and I was thinking of the line “You can’t go home again”, a quote I knew was from the book Look Homeward, Angel by Thomas Wolfe, a book I’ve sadly never read. I was looking out at the snow & Megan asked what I was thinking. I told her I was thinking that I need to read Look Homeward, Angel. She asked why and I said because I’d never read it. A few days later, back at the Grand Canyon I met a young man with a lit degree, a friend of Megan’s from our previous visit, and when I asked him his favorite writer it was, of course, Thomas Wolfe.

How in Death Valley, like that time in Alaska walking back from the Gold Rush cemetery and felt my brother with me for just a little while, I felt my mom. Felt her love, hokey as it sounds. And how I knew then that there are still things to learn and see and discover and love. And how it’s time to try to find a way to do those things.

I’d like to end this with some messages to some wonderful individuals: To the Kiwi Couple, wherever you are, thanks again for inviting us along for a wonderful night, y’all were great….To Harmonica Boy, I swear I didn’t mean to steal it. Keep playing….To Karin at the Grand Canyon Kennels: It gets better, I swear. …to the sweet boy in Ft. Stockton on his way to Iraq: God Bless….and, finally, to Larry: Larry, Larry, what can I say? You sure as shit had my number. What a boon to find you on that particular day. I want you to know that some of the things you said helped turn things around. And you made me laugh my ass off doing it. If you’re ever in Central Texas on pepper-related business, email me & we’ll all have a drink or ten. Signing off for now…watch for Volume Two: Hawaii! Aloha, y’all!