I have travelled back to New Orleans, for a much needed break from real life, to see Rush in concert and to spend time with old friends. I have to admit, that as much as I miss Mike, the kids and my pets, it's nice to have quiet time and to not be awakened by the wet tongue of my dog on my face.
I've had a great sushi lunch with my best friend, Mary, and for dessert we engaged in a little retail therapy and drove around all of our old haunts. I still remember, with crystal clear clarity, the first time I went to her house so that we could get to know each other better. She was waiting outside, under a tree for me, so that mom could find the place. We had salad, giggled over how "fine" Harrison Ford was (and still is. Some men just age well, although I don't see what he see's in Calista, who reminds me of a bobble head doll.) and just had a ball. We became instant BFF's and we have been through many, many life changing events together. I honestly don't know what I would do with out Mary, she's seen me through so much.
During the ride we talked about wishing to go back, so we could do some things over, or not at all. For example, I'd have joined Color Guard sooner so that I could have made the trip to Ireland with the band, I would have rethought some crushes I had and I would have pursued my dream of singing in a band. I would spend more time with friends that we have now lost, like Jeff Sibley, and I would be more discerning about others.
I also would have invested in Apple and Microsoft.
All of that conversation yesterday stayed with me as I dropped her off at home and headed back to the hotel to change for the concert, and for the rest of the night and into this morning, I've found myself a bit more reflective than I normally am about my youth. There are huge swaths of those years that I'd rather forget, and some that I'd like to go back and see again; I always remember them with a smile and a few tears of nostalgia. Times were so simpler then.
Dinner was a lively affair, the ride to the arena with a bunch of us all packed into Jason's car (Daniel riding in the seatless back) reminded me of nighttime rides through City Park, jumping the bridges in Mary's car our cigarettes hitting and scorching the headliner, laughing so hard that we cried as we fell all over one another so tightly we were packed in.
Spending time with Jason and Kevin has been great, it always is. Tonight I am hoping to spend time with Tedd and Mike as well, that would be almost all of the old middle school gang together again. Middle School was, for me, the best period of my young years, even though at the start of that important time in between elementary and high school, didn't start off the way I remember wanting it to.
I was always an insecure kid for some reason. I have always felt awkward in my own skin. I still do sometimes. I remember being so excited about starting middle school. I talked mom into buying me clogs (which all of the popular girls wore) and designer jeans, just 1 pair and I got my first curing iron so that I could feather my hair. I remember walking into homeroom feeling unusually confident, only to end up feeling deflated when I saw that the cliques had carried over from elementary; cliques I'd never been a part of since I had only attended public school for 5th and 6th grades and so hadn't known any of those girls since kindergarden.
Then I met Jason, Kevin, Jennifer, Juan, Mike, Tedd and the rest of the gang; all a bit geeky like me, all with so many things in common with me. We were, in my humble opinion, the most creative and imaginative kids on campus. We still are, especially Kevin, Jason, Mike and Tedd. These men just bowl me over, the talent that the four of them possess.
One of my biggest regrets is that I lost touch with them after middle school. I was the only one in the group that ended up at a different high school, and that was because of where I lived. One street over and I'd have been with them; but after the first year or so of high school, we drifted apart. I remember being hurt over that, and I regret that back then I was too busy trying to be someone I wasn't, I didn't keep up with them.
Life rushed on.
Always searching to fill something that was missing, not knowing what that missing thing was, I strayed away from my dreams or I eschewed them all together, thinking that they were foolish or unattainable. Maybe they were, but I wouldn't know that now, I'm too busy trying to discover myself after all of these years. Depression is so insidious, I really didn't start growing up until my breakdown in 2003, and I am still growing up in a lot of ways.
Which brings me back to this weekend. It's not so much an ennui that I am feeling, or a nostalgia or even sadness. I don't think it's regret, either. It's a combination of all of these. As I write this I am crying, not over how things are now but over how things were. It's not just my 44 year-old self crying either; it's me all of those years ago as well. It's, as my counselor put it, my young self growing up and it's my present self forgiving her for not knowing any better; how could she know any better?
This weekend has surprised me, I wasn't expecting to have these feelings. I'm glad that I am, for years ago, in a different life, I would have repressed them and gone home bitter. I have to keep reminding myself, that I have Major Depressive Disorder and these things happen.
It's a mixed bag. My life up until now, has made me what I am today. Change one little thing and who knows how life would have turned out for me up until this point. I don't regret my children and if I could go back and change anything, then I wouldn't have them. I wouldn't have Mike in my life and I'm not sure that I'd be happy and well. My path was set at birth, and I don't know where it will lead, but I do know that it isn't too late to go back to school and finish my degree. I know that it isn't too late to try the things I wanted to do when I was younger, but was too afraid to do...like having a motorcycle or flying a private plane (I AM going to get my pilot's license!) or even writing, which I (foolishly) abandoned thinking that original ideas no longer existed and I sucked at it anyway. One of these days I will write about that three year period where my depression left me in darkness and my hard fought battle toward the light of normalcy (what ever normal is).
We all have regrets, things we would have done differently, but those choices, those steps off onto a branch on the road shape us into who we are. The magical thing about life is that you can change and that it's never too late to go for it, so to speak. Besides, if I could go back and change things, who's to say I'd be any happier? Perhaps I'd still be in the darkness, and I much prefer the light; even if I get all angsty at times and act like a teenager. I think it makes me a better parent to my daughters,who are in the midst of the horrible teen years. I can, at least, empathize with them and encourage them to pursue their dreams and to not hold themselves back out of fear.
No, this weekend has been good, though the regret over those lost years of growing up with my dearest friends is piercingly sad right now. The sadness will fade, the mourning will run it's course and I will have grown up a little more.
Life is good.
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