It starts off introspective then goes back to normal

There are many things that get in the way of your life. Like growing up, getting out, coming around and falling down.

It's been one whole year since leaving and you know what? It was just in time too. See, my grandfather died in February. I went back to Oklahoma for the funeral and the sad.

Like my grandmother's funeral, I was the family spokesperson. This time, unlike her funeral, I was unprepared. It is a real bitch to commit to extemporaneous speaking when you know your voice will shake because of sad.

So that happened. And then I left, again.

My life is now puddled in a northeastern state where once again, I'm the one with the accent. Kiddo's sweet lilt is no longer there. It's been replaced by something amalgamous*. Her memories, too. She replies, "I don't remember", when I ask her if she remembers the cathedral or the park or the house or our friends. The last one hurts most. I haven't forgotten, but for her, I guess it's truly over.

The other day I came back to this blog and reread some posts. It's good to be able to laugh at and with yourself, don't you think?

I've missed you and then I've not. I'm sure you know what I mean. Every so often I check in with your lives to see what you're up to. Most of you are happy and I'm heapbigglad for that.

One year back and I'm ever so grateful to be back... Shall we?
Top 20 best things about being back in the USofA
1. Taco Bell, Sonic, McDonald's
2. Grocery stores with familiar products and the ease with which I acquire these products
3. My own car
4. Dry hair
5. A neighborhood school
6. only one hour ahead rather than six
7. Family's proximity
8. Freedom of speech
9. My job
10. Huge television with HBO
11. Netflix
12. Girl Scouts
13. Dance classes
14. Knitting groups
15. Moms of kids in Kiddo's classes
16. The dads too... because SciMan.
17. Cheap books
18. Guns from Tiffany's
19. Lack of social class strictures
20. Soaking up the can-do-it of my fellow 'muricans.


I'm back. You've been warned.




*Who cares?

Standing in the driveway

If you're anything like me, you're feeling like Josh Lyman and Toby Ziegler from The West Wing's episode, 20 Hours in America. Even with all the coverage.

Lemme 'splain Lucy...

If you've never been in a tornado warning and watch...you don't know what it's like...

The air pressure drops. The wind increases and sweeps all around the plains. The golfball-baseball-softball-sized hail falls. The sky turns green and brown. The clouds begin to turn above your house and you watch.

You watch. Because you have to know. You have to see it. Gary England and Mike Morgan aren't there with you, but they know.

You watch. Because you have to witness.

You watch from your driveway, your patio in your backyard.

Why?

Because you are an Oklahoman and there's nothing more dreadful or thrilling to your soul to see the train coming at you.

Because you don't have adequate shelter anyway.

There's nothing more heartbreakingly violent that you could watch...you know, deep down, that you are witnessing someone's death.

It just hasn't happened yet.

It's scary. It's stomach clenching. It's thrilling and horrible.

And you watch. And hope it doesn't touch you.