Today, to celebrate that game changing, life-altering leap of faith, I am glued to the televised Wrath of Hurricane Sandy while cursing our own crappy storm windows. I hope we don't end up needing what we don't really have. It's been a cozy day at home with The Who Live at Kilburn on DVD, and Jimmie Johnson's magical day at Martinsville Speedway. And I am getting back into beading, I spread years of beads and silver and tarnishing silver spacers and bright findings and rusting tools (and candy wrappers?) out on a sheet on the warm carpet and I got myself into a "make something beautiful" state of mind. What hurricane?
And I missed my dad. This is his favorite time of year to visit me - when he wasn't heading to Lake George, he was piloting the Dadillac to the Finger Lakes.
Wow. 16 years ago today, I waved a long, heartbreaking good-bye New Paltz, and moved what belongings didn't make it into a storage unit to my new Ithaca address on street I had never seen before. It had a crooked stop sign and limited parking options. But my room (read: space) was funky cool and kinda round and I had nice sunset view. And I was only 5 hours from my dad. Welcome to Ithaca. I spent my first night not even knowing the name of the street I lived on. I didn't know whose mattress I was "borrowing" either. 16 years ago today, it rained. And I had a new area code.
Since I moved here, I've made friends upon friends upon friends and lovers and more friends and lovers and maybe friends' lovers - so maybe a few enemies - but most importantly, I made peace with my decision to put the past behind me and move on.
Happy Sweet 16, Dad.
My Sweet 16, 1982