This man with the initials G.O. from my hometown thought of me.  He passed away in November unexpectedly, & here I am unaware yet in his will.  I'm lost - completely consumed with questions of where he met me and how I made an impact on his life.  Perhaps he was an regular at a diner I worked at; indulging in our bitter black coffee the old folks raved about.  Maybe he was at my high school graduation many years ago, listening to the black haired girl give the valedictorian speech but not getting the credit.  I'm sorry I can't remember you, dear friend, but you have encrypted a corner of my mind.

I want to go home and just drive.  A majority of my teenage years were spent driving aimlessly to chilly beaches and old lighthouses.  These drives would usually involve mountain dew & loud music, artists that molded me into who I am now.  I brought cousins and boyfriends, best friends & my sister. But most of the time I drove myself, hoping each time my little Ford would make the trek to nowhere.  Oh, but it was somewhere to me.

I love you Oregon, but January just isn't the same without a blizzard or two.

One Response to “ Nostalgia ”

1. 
   emily b.
   January 19, 2010 at 10:13 AM

   i used to love driving down to the beach. sitting in the cold sand. listening to the waves thunder around. i haven't taken a ride to the beach, just me and my thoughts, in too many years to count. perhaps i should revisit..i have a feeling it would make me feel young again :) and mountain dew...oh how i love that sweet nectar!!

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