Memories in the Attic

I was home in Connecticut about a month ago

spending time with my family,

paying the neighborhood donkeys a visit,

giving Little Cat scratches behind her ear. 

During my trip

I got baited into sorting through 

old bins and dusty boxes from our attic. 

I guess our sweet old house 

needs a sturdy new roof

and with that, 

the odds and ends 

and treasures that have accumulated 

over the years and grown comfortable and settled 

among old winter coats and broken lacrosse sticks -

Well. Their worth was being reevaluated. 

Cue almond-sized Emily tears
of panicky separation anxiety.
I sat for nearly 4 hours
and read through old love letters,
remembering the innocence of middle school crushes
and the romance that unfolded
on loose leaf paper.
I flipped through yearbooks and scrapbooks,
pausing on a page occasionally.
I wonder what happened to him?
Did she ever become a vet?
Daring myself to remember the exact layout
of my camp cabin,
the familiar smell of my elementary school,
the first kisses and heartbreaks,
high school victories and schoolyard gossip.
I thumbed through old exams
and high school essays.
Mix-tapes and photo collages,
friendship bracelets and old movie ticket stubs.

And cards.
So many cards.
Dozens and dozens and dozens of cards.
Which is funny because, I write and send a lot of cards.
 I never really linked the boxes
filled with cards in my parents attic
to my present day pleasure
of writing someone a card.
I scanned old letters marked AIRMAIL
sent from my childhood friend in England.
I chuckled.
The updates we deemed worthy
of a cross-continental journey.
An inquiry about my doll,
sent over oceans and mountain ranges.
Funny; sweet.
I squeezed my eyes shut.
I wished every question
were as simple as such.
Birthday wishes from my grandparents -
long before I reached double digits.
Words of encouragement from my dad:
I'm so proud of the woman you are becoming.
'Just Because' notes, from my mom,
with water colored scenes of desert cacti,
and smiling kittens.
When did I grow from child to adult?
From handwritten cards
with googly eyed dinosaurs and juggling bears,
to emails, littered with entitlement
and laced with stubborn pride?
Did it happen overnight, under a full moon?
Or was it more gradual,
as the leaves changed and days shortened.
I considered it briefly,
shrugged my shoulders and began to
decide what stays and what goes.
What memories to keep,
and which to part with.
It was cathartic;
the flood of the past,
and then their quick release.
But I kept all the cards.
Every single one.
xo

Moon Gazing

I used to think homesick was a feeling 

reserved for rainy days at summer camp, 

or long lonely weekends in a zip code still new to me.

But here I am, happier than a clam and feeling quite content

and that old distant feeling has snuck right up on me, 

like a mosquito to my neck. 

I suppose you can feel homesick when things go right too.

I'll be walking along, minding my thoughts 

and I'll see something completely ordinary to others,

but to me its anything but. 

A speckled feather on a path, a magnolia in bloom, 

a smoothed over river stone. 

I'll cross the street 

and my eye will catch a cat sunning itself in a window, 

or a ginkgo leaf laying in the shadows on the sidewalk.

image is my own

An op-ed in the paper, a funny spoof on tv, a sketch on a postcard or a chuckle at work.

And every so often, on a rare clear night,

 I'll look up to a full, plump moon.

Lately all of these simple

 daily discoveries make me miss my family. 

I feel settled and happy and excited and inspired,

and suddenly it seems a little strange to feel these things 

without my family close by to share it all with me.

This feeling will pass. 

But until then, 

I'll keep staring up, 

at that big old moon,

in that big old sky,

and think of you. 

xo

Thanksgiving in New England

Inspired by Chiara's guest post on Oh Happy Day,

and with assistance from the helpful hands of family, 

I created my very own Thanksgiving pie topper.

Isn't it sweet?

 My mom water colored the birds,

and her printer's eye helped me with the spacing of the alphabet lettering.

Dad carefully assisted with affixing the birds and ribbon to the skewers.

It's so simple, but so special.

There is such satisfaction in the process of creating.

xo

Whiskey and Gold

Go, west young friend.

California's full of women, whiskey and gold.

Well, that's what the country songs say,
but whatever it may be, the winds of the west 

whispered in my ear and yanked at my heart.

And so, it was a year and a half ago I came out to Northern California

for equal parts adventure and comfort.

The new kind of comfort you only feel 

when you're very far from the actual comforts of home. 

I love my San Francisco life. 

image 

But...there aren't many days that go by when I don't think about 'back east.' 

As I pack up my suitcase for my holiday travels home tomorrow,

I already know almost exactly how each and everyday will unfold. 

That's the actual, familiar comfort.

A friend of mine here in San Francisco told me today:

"Safe travels and enjoy every moment. 

Home misses you...but San Francisco deserves you." 

Well said, sweet friend. 

xo

Empire State of Mind

I realize now that my love for New York is truer than the ocean is blue.

Being back on east coast soil this past week has been the tops. 

It's difficult to articulate

just how perfect everything has been.

And I know it's not for lack of trying by my family and by my friends.

I love that on any given night, you can walk out of work and into a Broadway show.  

I love that a friend is always free for dinner, and an evening stroll.

I love commuting with my dad,

meeting my sister on the sidewalk.

I...I forgot how much I loved walking home

to decompress after being in the office all day.

I forgot how magical Gramercy Park is-

and Madison Square Park and Flatiron:

I love you!  I love you!  I can't say it enough!

image is my own

I forgot how much I loved seeing men in suits,

and forgot about babies and nannies on Park Avenue.

I forgot about flocks of friends heading to happy hour.

And how everyone in this muggy haze of August, shares a knowing smile on the subway.

The camaraderie of New Yorkers.

How? How could I forget all of this?

New York, my heart never swayed ...but my memory got foggy.

And for that I am actually grateful.

Because it's made this trip so very special.

To rediscover the things I used to take for granted.

I thought for a moment there, that I'd lost my inner New York compass...

my first day or so, I was clumsy, confused.

But, it's there.

It's always there,

tethered to my heart.

Pointing east, from west.

xo

Summer Sabbatical

Almost...

East Coast Bound, Baby!

I've dubbed my upcoming departure as my 'summer sabbatical.'

I'm off on a nearly 2.5 week jaunt back in the northeast.

I could almost squeal!

There are sisters to goof around with,

and parents to hug very tight.

image

Cats to snuggle,

flowers to smell,

and a chaise lounge chair in my backyard that has been

calling my name since last summer.

The biggest pieces of the trip though?

Two whoopers of weddings.

I can't wait to boogie with my buddies,

and share a toast of love.

A few short days more...

xo