Every sentence I try to write is the wrong sentence. I should be able to produce a long wordy sentence filled with metaphoric imagery that accurately captures the feeling in my soul when the plane touched down on the runway at DIA. But alas, there is no such sentence. So here's the best I can do:
I went home. That's all. The plane touched down and I got off the plane like I had done a hundred times before. I got my baggage, got in my town car (Thank you, Matt, for that - best ride I have ever had coming home from the airport!) and my driver drove me through the city. I watched the exit signs on the highway pass by me like old friends: Wadsworth, Kipling, Colfax. I waited for Matt and Erin at a restaurant, and watched the parking lot with an odd detachment. I had already been traveling for 8 hours, and I had expected to feel a giddy anticipation waiting for them to get there, but instead I felt still and calm and completely emotionless. I guess looking back on it now, I think I felt so completely at ease that it was impossible to feel anything except complete ease.
After they arrived and we got settled in the truck, we still had a 3 hour drive up the mountain to Buena Vista, and you would think, after 8 years away, that it would be a nonstop chattering of two long-lost friends, wouldn't you? How do I explain that it was the most absolutely normal level of conversation you could imagine? I've thought about that so many times since I came back to Minnesota; I traveled a million miles to talk to Erin like I talk to her every week. I may have been a long time away from Colorado, but I'm really never far from her and our friendship.
And THAT, made coming home feel even more like home.
I kept expecting there to be some crescendo of emotion; some moment that would bring me to tears. Instead, I felt so much myself - so much MORE myself than I have felt in years - that I could have walked into McGinnis Middle School the next morning and started teaching 6th grade Language Arts like I had never left.
I discovered the next morning just how at home I really was. Of course I would forget to bring my toothbrush and toothpaste - of COURSE I would. So I dropped Erin off for work and stopped by City Market to pick up a new one. In less than 10 seconds, I bump into Jamie Page. Who, God bless her, says "hey Sara." In that easy way she always has. Not with a double-take, not with one of those "is that really who I think it is" glances. Like I'm not about 25 lbs. heavier and certainly older and been gone for a million years. God bless Jamie Page. And THEN, as I'm checking out, the cashier says to me, "Hey, you look kind of familiar. I feel like you might have been one of my kids' teachers."
Swear to God, that happened. And I HAD been his kid's teacher. So we spent a couple of minutes catching up on good old Ethan Adamek - boy Ethan, your dad sure is proud of you, wherever you are.
And my days went just like that, moment by moment. My coming home caused no big panic or joyful celebration - I saw my people, and we spent time together as if my being there was exactly how it was supposed to be.
And now I have to admit something. I left my kids in Minnesota, and I was very disoriented without them - I am conditioned to monitoring their every move. So for 24 hours I was constantly checking my phone wondering and worrying. But gradually that eased, and a couple of times I caught myself remembering that I even HAD children. *yikes* Now, to be fair, I didn't have my kids when I lived in BV. (Well, I did have Emma, but she was just a little peanut at 2 - and the other 6 years I was there childless kind of cancelled that out, I'm afraid.)
The town, thank heaven, looked almost exactly the same. A couple of new businesses, a name change here or there, but BV was still BV. Oh - except for the South Main project. I didn't really like that, actually, and I sincerely hope I am not offending anyone by saying that. But seriously, it looks like someone cut out 6 blocks of Breckenridge or Estes Park or something and pasted it on to the edge of BV, and it was just weird. And wrong, somehow. That's just one opinion, though. Oh - and also the re-painting of the city signs with red and yellow instead of green and white. It looks like McDonald's came through town with a paintbrush. But other than THAT, the town was practically perfect.
My first afternoon home was reserved for Linda, the Queen, because if I'm gonna do it, I'm gonna do it right. Linda is my reason for ever getting to be in that dang place to begin with, and in case you're wondering, the center of the known universe is actually in her kitchen. The path to enlightenment starts on Shady Lane and ends with a chocolate no-bake cookie. It took her approximately two hours to return me to my center and all the uncertainty and stress I had accumulated over the last 8 years was washed away and I felt whole again. I suspect that she is the bright light in a lot of people's worlds...I hope she knows that.
Here's a picture of Linda and me at the Rope (The Lariat, for everyone who isn't local) having lunch:
Do you see that smile on my face? That is the most genuine smile I've had since I can't remember when. That's me, for real, no painted-on sunshine or anything - just the real me.
On days 2-3 I checked in with old friends, ate food at all my favorite places, even visited my old classroom. It was nice, but not revolutionary - I think because it still felt pretty normal. Like a comfortable shoe, I guess. I will say that the one pang I felt the strongest was missing my husband, Aaron. Every single Colorado second was his and mine together, and it did feel very odd to be there without him. I kept taking pictures of favorite things - the menu at the Evergreen, for one - and sending them to him at home.
On day 4, Erin and I were getting ready to head back up to Denver. God knew I was leaving BV and sent this to me in the morning when I woke up:
Wow. Wouldn't you love for this to be your view when you leave the house to start your day?
Anyway...we had tickets to see the Indigo Girls, who happen to write the soundtrack to my entire life, and they were performing at Red Rocks Amphitheater. In case you don't know, Red Rocks is the best place to see a concert ever in the world. Ever. I have seen some amazing concerts there, and to see Amy & Emily perform on that stage was sort of a bucket list item, so to speak.
I won't say anything more about the concert; I don't possess the words anyway to do it justice. It was the Moment of Moments, though, when the Colorado Symphony began the first bars of "Ghost" and there I was, at home, with my best friend, listening to the song that is MY song, being sung by my songwriting heroes and I am not ashamed to say I cried my eyes out through the whole entire song.
I was ready to come back to Minnesota the next day. I was really missing my husband, and really missing my kids, so it felt just right to get back on the plane. But I really needed to go home this summer - I didn't even really know just how much I needed it. And it was just exactly how it was supposed to be.
**Update**
Hey, guess what? You Tube is amazing - somebody at the same concert recorded some of Amy & Emily's set. Now I can relive it over and over - the internet is amazing. The videographer doesn't have the steadiest hand, and of course it isn't quite the same as being there, but still. If you don't know the IG, you need to get to know them. This is Closer to Fine - Erin's favorite.
