"Hmmm." He stated. "Are you mad because you don't get to drive or because you can't just drive down the street to be home?"
"Sad."
"You don't live there anymore... you just think you do."
In my mind, I justify how great it would be to live in my hometown again. I imagine how nice it would be to be surrounded by family and friends again. I recall countless family dinners... fun... laughter... adult conversation.
Earlier in the day, as my aunt and cousin left my mom's house, Aunt Sue announced "you know there's TWO houses for sale down the street..... wouldn't THAT be nice to have all three of you on the same street again!" (My brother's new house is three-tenths of a mile from my mom, just two blocks down, on the same street.) Funny how all of us call the homes by the names of the old owners... VanDeSande and Block.... and all know exactly which homes we are referring to.)
"I wish..." I replied with sadness. "Not very good odds of that happening though."
"Wouldn't that be cool if Mike could come back to this store?" she asked.
"Not likely. Not impossible, but NOT likely. I heard there has to be 80% turnover before they would ever bring a GM back and they've got to be close to that because there is almost no one left from original store set-up."
My cousin flashed me a hopeful smile. "Maybe then?"
As we drive on Hwy. 11 west, I relive in my head many walks with my mom on that very route. I fight back tears thinking how if I lived there, I could walk with my mom every day... like we used to do together. I remind myself that I have found no one who walks at a more comfortable pace with me than my mom and how much I enjoy that time we spent together... walking and talking.
I rewind my brain to witness the boys playing with their cousins. I imagine how much fun we would all have living closer. The boys had protested leaving today as well; I truly felt their pain.
I recall how much I loved hanging out with my two cousins and how we often referred to them as my little sisters. I enjoy their company so much... even more, now that we are all adults. It feels like déjà vu to look at or hold my cousin's oldest daughter... a spitting image of her mother. I love watching our kids playing together and listening to their giggles.
I feel sadness that I didn't get a chance on yet another trip to visit with my high school best friend and her two sons. (More playmates for the boys and I...) With them, it is always SO EASY to pick up right where we left off.
I find myself battling jealousy and heart-break every time I hear that my mom stops down the street at my brother's new house or how they are enjoying a meal together multiple times per week. I envision how nice it would be to have family IN TOWN and how uplifting it would be to have a babysitter and some free time away from the boys once in a while. I think how fun it would be for the boys to have sleep-overs at Nana's house. (Mike and I had JUST had a conversation of how WE should stay at my brother's house and let the boys have a sleepover with Nana.)
I recall how much mom and I enjoyed making cards together. I reminisce on all of the holiday baking sessions with Kerri and mom.
I remind myself how incredibly lonely my life is now; although, I don't need much reminder.... attempting to live through it almost every day. (At least I can talk to family on the phone and can enjoy virtual visits through Skype or FaceTime.) We just don't have (any) friends (here).
As tears trickle down my cheeks, my cries turn to laughter and Mike mistakes it for sobbing at first. On the radio plays the introduction of a 1969 Rolling Stones classic that Mike is unfamiliar with. I laugh, wiping away my tears, and Mike questions WHAT is so funny.
You can't always get what you want is right on cue as a reminder that I can't live in my hometown. Marriage has changed the rules so that HOME is where my husband lives. I'm just making myself sad with the notion of NOT living there again.
Thank you, Rolling Stones, for the perfectly appropriate song at JUST the right time.
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