Passing of Time

It's odd for me to run into people from my past. People that you shared a multitude of memories with. That's what happened last night.

Maybe it's my age, and the time and distance between the conversations and experience is just so much larger than it used to be, that it's like recovering from amnesia. I found myself remembering certain "scenes" from life; Life that existed well over 20 years ago.

My great aunt died. I have not seen her since probably 2000. Before that, it was probably the mid-90s. She was my maternal grandfather's sister, and she was a pistol. Full of life, conversation, personality... you name it. I like her, I always did. She had one daughter, that she actually adopted from another cousin of mine. I assume the cousin must have been young when she had her. So my Aunt Bill (Yes, Bill - her name was Willie Mae, so they called her Bill for short,) and my cousin Cathy grew up across the street from my grandfather, grandmother and great grandmother (Which I refer to as Grandma Betty, Papa, and Granny.) 

I would visit my grandparents just about every Sunday after church. Cathy would come across the street and eat with us and she and I would play together. She was about 3 years older than I, so of course I was delighted to hang out with the "cooler" kid. There were a slew of other cousins - all of them were 2nd and 3rd and even 4th cousins for me, since my mother is an only child. The one thing that bound the entire family together was my great-grandmother - Granny. She was a true matriarch. She had birthed 12 children, six of which lived (there were two sets of twins,) and each child had a few kids (except for my grandmother.) Every Christmas, the entire family would get together. It was quite a large group.

Here is a pic of most of the great grandchildren and grandchildren through the years.

 

Here is a photo of my cousin Amy on the left and my cousin Cathy on the right.

 

You can see my cousin Cathy over my shoulder. (She is the one I mentioned in the story.)

 

Here are most of the great grandchildren - Stacie, Greg, Cathy, Heather, Holly, Amy, Kristi and me. My great grandmother was in the middle.

 

My sister with my Granny

 

A picture of my cousin Cathy and I eating sandwiches at my Granny's house

 

Me, my Papa and my sister. Clearly I was jealous

 

My dad, me, Cathy and our Granny 

 

Another birthday - Cathy and me

 

Me, my Papa, my Grandma Betty and my Granny 

 

Finally - the most telling of all (all of the adults are deceased) - My papa, my grandma Betty, Great Aunt Bill (who just died,) and Granny. You see me and Cathy in the photo.

I suppose my point to all of this is, it was weird. I began remembering things I had completely forgotten about. What was also strange, I did not really know anyone's personalities. I had to ask what they all did for a living, and where they lived. It's odd to have been so much a part of each others lives for so long, then be almost like strangers. The faces are familiar... but their stories... are not.

I hate that it takes something like funerals to bring families together. Of course everyone said, "We have to get together some time.." and of course everyone agreed they would. But I think we all know that  time will pass and we will probably see each other again at the next funeral. 

One day... it won't exist.

The period of time between each visit home gets longer and longer with time.

I find that I do most of the traveling to see the very people/family/places that once meant so much to me.

Not a whole lot of the path is beaten down coming this way.

I wonder, in the next 20 years or so, will I even return to Macon? Will it matter?

My parents are aging, they will retire soon. Will they stick around? Will they even BE around? It's a somber thought.

What is left of what was once home? Recently I was terribly homesick for a few things that were familiar. On this trip back, I made a point to see some "old favorites", taste some "old cravings", and visit some good friends. I got to sample the Nuway hotdog; eat my guac and yellow cheese queso at Polly's; sample the garlic & cheddar biscuits at Red Lobster; see friends I have not seen in years (one in almost 20 years); walk the streets that were once my "stomping grounds"; sit in a park near the river; visit with family during a "mile-stone" birthday for my niece...

It was all there. The prescription for a "home-sick-fix." What do I feel? Nothing.

I don't have to eat those items anymore. They just taste greasy and fattening now. The friends I once spent hours on the phone with as a kid, now feel more like aquaintances and there is that ackwardness and small talk that no one feels comfortable with. None of my "friends" seemed to know what I did for a living, or what my interests were or anything. I asked lots of questions of them.. but it all seemed more one sided.

When it comes to family, I seem like more of an inconvenience. (All except for my niece.) Plus, I think some people can never find happiness. So it's best I live my life... not quite so involved.

It is simply not home anymore.

I have one more "socialogical" experiment. I am meeting up with some old friends from college the first weekend in June. We have not seen one another in probably 15 years or so. Not sure how that will play out either. But I will do my time, hopeful as always, of reconnecting.

I never understood my friends (new ones - here) that did not keep in touch with their old aquaintances. Now I am starting to see why.

It has nothing to do with the people. Everyone is fine, and delightful and all is well in their worlds. But that is just it - I am not a part of their world anymore.

My world consists of my husband (the egyptian), my little apartment, my writing, my pictures, my job, and all of the accomplishments I have achieved. I guess my home is where my Yasser is. We are our own little family now.

I hope the best for everyone else. I really do. But I think, at least right now, that my "reunions" with old friends might take a back seat for a while. I am tired. I am not included in these other little "worlds"... for people who once meant (and really still do) mean so much to me will never reciprocate what I like to put into long-distance friendships. It is not their fault. I am simply not of their world.