The Pilgrims' Monument in the Autumn Mist
It is always good to be home, any time of year. As I mentioned the other day I haven't been home since Columbus Day weekend, about a month ago. I really needed to be home. . . .to get reconnected with those who mean the most to me. . .maybe these folk as the basis of all those who mean the most to me right now: Mom and Dad. . .and Peter.
Some seem more able to live apart, away from those they love dearly and remain 'connected' quite well. I am finding - at least at this stage of my growing -- connecting, touching them only by phone or internet is just not enough. Oh I can survive, and so forth, but right now 'survival' is not quite enough for me. Know what I mean? I need to connect sensually. . .sight, sound, touch, smell, 'tasting' their world too. . . I miss not being able to reach out and touch, hold another's hand, to hug and be hugged, kiss and be kissed. . . . .you know?
So as soon as I could reasonably leave campus - the FIT was already packed with the stuff I needed - I headed east. . .home. . .eventually crossing the 75 year old Sagamore Bridge separating me from the mainland and bringing me to The Cape. . .and I picked up Route 6 which runs across the USA from near San Francisco to Provincetown and the tip of Cape Cod. For a later Friday afternoon there wasn't much traffic. . . and everything looked so beautiful in the late afternoon sun. . . . . . .I had to keep tabs on my FIT. . it knows two speeds. . . .city traffic and interstate 80 mph. . .and the speed limits are carefully watched by the towns. . . looking to give end-of-high-season speeding tickets. . .to augment the coffers .
I called ahead to give Mom a guestimate of arrival time and alerted Peter to come to supper. . .Mom already expected her 'other son'. . ;-) Peter was already there when I arrived, perched on a high stool gabbing with Mom and peeling potatoes. . he's always right at home. Dad was puttering around over papers and briefs for some case or other. . . my Honda's headlights alerted them of my arrival and we observed the arrival rituals. .. hehehe
It was just plain noice [ yank for 'nice'. . .hehe] to be home, to touch love and be touched by it. . . . a lovely evening. The whole too brief weekend was loverly. . .noice. . .connected. . .enriched, nourished.
Now I shall go to sleep. I am ready. . . .