A Few Thoughts on Wedding Eve

Tomorrow is Saturday, 19 May 2012, and I want to be one of many people to congratulate my sister and Jason -- more family than many are by blood -- on their wedding day. I am a long ways away, but I feel connected to this day, its vows and its commitments, like I am standing there on the podium speaking aloud. In my mind they look healthy and happy in their fancy clothes; some distant relative is tearing up in the corner; my dad gives his speech as good as he always does; Mark makes a joke and Maureen laughs. I can pretty much see it all.

As a backstory, you have to understand that relationships like this mean quite a bit to me. I look at those of my sister and my dad, my closest friends and mentors, and see remarkable connections that are hard to explain in a world plagued by online dating, divorce, and a thousand reasons to quit. Everyone it seems, out there in the real world, has commitment issues, phobias, fears, jealousy, regret, pain, and heartbreak, and then there are you all, these small little bubbles and bright shining beacons, showing the rest of us how good it can all be.

My relationships have been bad at times, and a lot of that is my fault. I was young, but that's sure a silly excuse for someone like me. I really did traumatize myself for a time, those tough days back in Austin, those late night talks over beers. There are a few people, particularly one, where if I could do it all over again I promise I would. I would sit with you by the riverwalk a thousand times and run that half marathon again and lay next to you with stuffed animals at night and go for runs and eat late night dinners at Kirby Lane, all because I felt as comfortable with you as I ever felt with anyone, and that was just plain scary, but its long behind us and you are a long ways away and will never know, even when you are old and grey, how much having you in my life mattered. What happened with us was real and I will never think it wasn't. It's been awhile and I forget so many of our moments because there are no reminders anymore and that all makes me sad.

I am different now, as they all say, but I couldn't be if I had not gone through all that. I am sorry to go so deep, but I think you have to, as a reminder that you can. I did not have writing back then so I could not write about things as they happened, and was not even good enough at writing to do it well. Since then I ran a long ways away and was very alone and saw some ridiculous things out there in the world but I came back better and will keep coming back better and better with time. I went into the woods, like Thoreau, to get at the meaty parts of life and just to see what it all was about. One day I'll understand what all that hesitation and second-guessing was for -- to lead me to something else, I'm sure -- but I have certainly seen what I do not want and that's important too. I didn't forgive myself for a long time, but now, really I do.

So now it's midnight, and the day of my sister's wedding. My thoughts went other places, but that is how I am. I want to thank her really, because we only know what exists by seeing what others have done. I am so grateful that we entered each other's separate worlds those many years ago and have been around ever since. I cannot wait to watch how they change together in the years that come. 

A Melancholy Start to May

It is hot in Spain now. The weather channel shows red blinking arrows coming into the country from Africa and it seems the desert air of the Sahara is everywhere. I wake up in sweats during the night, though it's nicer then; during the day it's much worse. It is that quick transition from Spring to Summer that happens every year in Spain and all the world, but somehow it is always a surprise. Somehow we always resist this difficult but inevitable transitions. I certainly remember that year back in Texas where I suffered constant growing pains to put on inches in height. All that followed was an awkward and lengthy stage with far too little muscle, though I am grateful for the height in retrospect. Here too, probably has its gains. I have always preferred a hot run and tan skin to a cold room and pale complexion. The former is to be alive and breathing, and the latter something else.

May is a month of other transitions, for many, and for me. After a weeklong set of exams, every American citizen I have come to know over the past four months is gone, back in their beds full on their mother's cooking or some local fast food joint. Many were normal and fine, some just plain tedious, and then there were those few gems who made moments better. They are all lying awake at night with their window open, as I do now, but the air is different and I suspect they have returned to many people who have not changed while they probably feel quite different. How foreign that must feel, and I felt for them when they said their final goodbyes.

There is not much else to say about that. I am not sure how I feel. People in front of me yesterday are now thousands of miles away. Memories from atop the setas, looking out over the city we came to know together seem like a far off place. Times by the river sitting, wondering as to what it would have looked like 500 years ago when Columbus sailed into its port carrying the most interesting of news are mine to revisit and carry. My mom always said leaving is more difficult on those who stay. While life grows hectic on planes and trains, with goodbyes and greetings, it becomes potently quiet for those in the rear view mirror.

I am sure that before I know it, I will join them back on American soil and sit along the river in Austin with a Shiner Bock and a plate of nachos. It will be all well and good, but I will miss a few things and think to how similar the Guadalquivir and Lady Bird Lake are as they reflect the downtown buildings in their sunset waters. Such is the dilemma of one who travels and the price you pay for seeing wonderful things. Your mind will always drift to some far away place and some precious memory if given the time to do so.

But this all sounds much too solemn, when it is not at all. Good things come and go. My momentum is only increasing, and I sure wouldn't trade any of it. I really could not be paid for a life outside mine, and that is a special thing to say.

This past saturday, I went to the beach in Cádiz for just a day, returning after the sun had gone down that same evening. It was a beautiful sunset and as the bus powered out of the city and back into the Andalusian countryside, I watched the orange glow, illuminating everything from somewhere just beyond the Atlantic. Soon it was night, and with my head against the window, feeling the vibrations of the road, I watched the stars in the sky all the way back to Seville.