I don't know about you, but I love the smells of coffee and the sounds of the customers either ordering their drinks and pastries or talking while lounging in the overstuffed chairs. Chalk it up to being a barista while in college or studying in coffee shops from an 18yr until 21yr. Being in one of those worn wooden chairs at the best table in the corner next to an outlet, I feel at home. More at home in the four walls of an establishment meant only to serve consumers with caffeine and sugar coated bakery items than my parents four bedroom house with most of my own possessions.
I love my family. I love my bed, my dogs, my cats, and I really love my memories of playing in the backyard with the neighbors. We used to take our plastic wagon to the top of the hill in our backyard, or the top of our very steep driveway, sit in the back of the wagon pulling the handle toward our chest to help us steer; we would then kick off the landing and fly. We did lots of crazy things like that, attaching weed eater string to the back of a riding lawn mower and then to a worn piece of carpet... it was a magic carpet of course! A lot of times, these silly little adventures were not harmful to anyone, we only ended up with skinned knees at best. The worst thing we did was breaking a few tree branches in someone's empty lot to help build our "fort" on a large dirt mound. The owner of the said empty lot, walked to every single door in the neighborhood to find the perpetrators for his broken magnolia tree branches. What can I say? We were only 8 years old. Kids will be kids.
But these are memories that make me think of "home" and think of it fondly. I recalled playing video games with my brothers and father while sitting in the middle of the living room. We also used to fight, and by fight, I mean we would wrestle a lot and sometimes it wasn't so nice. My oldest brother, Chris, and I used to take karate lessons with my father. The karate class kept moving into different buildings and one day my father went to help them move into the space that was next to a laser tag, we liked this place best. However, when my father was gone moving boxes, Chris and I were playing a game of laser tag by ourselves and got into a huge fight that ended with me taking a blow from the laser to my back. Needless to say, Chris and I didn't get along very well sometimes. Chris is also autistic so he has some sort of excuse. Me, I was just a spoiled only girl with very little patience.
These kinds of thoughts flood back into my mind as soon as I stepped into the foyer after nearly 8months of being across the country. I drove to my parents house after the end of my latest travel nurse position in Los Angles, CA. It was roughly 2100 miles and 33hours of driving. I did this alone, with the exception of two dogs. But I don't really count them, seeing as they did little to help me drive or keep me awake, aside from throwing up. When I finally did get to my parents house, I was greeted with silence and relief that I made it in one piece. But it would have been nice to have someone else care that I made it home too. But both of my parents were at church and two of the three brothers were up in my old room talking about video games/anime/manga/some other crap they keep to themselves. How does a family that grows up close drift so far apart?
I don't know if this was one of the reasons for getting married at 23yrs old, but I can only think it has something to do with my strong desire to have someone by my side constantly. I'm a very independent person, but when it comes to romantic entanglements, I wanted to have a man. I didn't really care about my needs, wants, or future; I cared about having someone that was nice to me. Someone that liked me and I was content... move forward in time and I acquired a bipolar husband that had a tendency to hit me or break our possessions or yell at me for no reason, then I acquired a divorce from the same bipolar man within two years. Yay.
The silence of my family home was stifling me. It makes me uncomfortable to remember my entire family gathered around the dinner table for meals. Talking, laughing, yelling, and normalcy were present during these times. Now I look at the kitchen table and found a picnic style table that was used for decoration, no longer for family meals even though 5 out of 6 of our family still lived at home. I was the only child that moved out and away from KY. Eric received his bachelors in Chemical Engineering but is the most irrationally stubborn person I've ever met. He has hair that is to the middle of his back, this paired with no job, ever, or a drivers license and one would wonder why he is single and lives at home.
Sean, bless the baby brother I've always loved and got along with is a senior in high school. However, he worships the ground Eric walks on. So he is now a vegetarian because Eric is. It doesn't matter that both of them hate eating vegetables, they are doing it not for health reasons or for animal rights, they are vegetarians because during a lecture in class one day, Eric heard his instructor mention that some people in India are vegetarians and it takes a lot of willpower. Challenge accepted. If nothing, Eric has an inordinate amount of willpower. I wish I could bottle it up and sell it, because seriously who does that? Stops eating most things because it takes a lot of work? Whatever. Sean is not as strong willed as Eric... yet.
And then there is Chris. He has surprised me the most. This guy is awesome. Chris has been working at Kroger since he graduated high school. He tries really hard while he is at work, getting there on time, working any hours they give him, and rarely taking any time off. He is honest, open, and friendly. Now Chris also saves his pennies like he is expecting a national crisis to break out. I mean he has $20,000 in the bank. JEEZ. I guess I would too if I didn't have any bills. But still, for a travel nurse with two dogs and very minimal paychecks with very large bills... 20 thousand is a s*** ton. I'm jealous, I'll admit. But what money Chris does spend is pretty cute. He will buy the most colorful socks on the planet. He buys the neon colored socks that stop mid shin and have Jordan's shadow cast on the back of each sock. He also buys the brightest colored sneakers I've ever seen. I mean I didn't even think they made a lime green colored shoe. Well, they do. And if you ever come to Somerset, KY you can see the guy who pushes carts wear either that pair or a multitude of skittle colored high tops. But honestly, that's pretty cool. The guys got taste.
I remember when Chris and I were in high school together. My parents knew that Chris was autistic, I never did, no one talked to us about it. They just said that Chris was a little different. We were in the same grade in high school, even though we were three years apart in age. Chris was also in the special education classes, where I was usually in the regular to advanced classes. Like I said earlier, Chris and I didn't usually get along. Chris used to draw pictures of grave stones with my name on them, he bought a black widow spider one day from a friend and I swear he meant to give it to me... without the jar. In his defense, I didn't understand why he was different, I didn't tolerate his unique behaviors well. I was impatient and embarrassed by him and called him out whenever he did anything that was "different". I'm sure I didn't make him feel to good about himself. But I was pissed if anyone said anything mean to him. There was one girl in particular that Chris had a huge crush on in high school. And of course she had to be one of the most popular girls, with the bitchiest attitude. She would talk down to him, she also used to set up "dates" with him and then not show up. Bitch.
I thank the stars up above that Chris was always able to brush that stuff off pretty quickly. I don't know what possesses someone to behave that way, but I know that he was awesome about it all.
SOOOO that's some crazy ramblings from a 26yr old me.
