Relocating back to the land of my birth is a deeply moving proposition. Is this act a step backwards akin to falling down ? Or is this path forward merely a circle which my soul walks? As I consider my parents thoughts that going back to Buffalo as a sign of weakness or failure, I am reminded of a quote Kelly told me fifteen years ago that goes something like this: “we all go back to our family eventually.”
At the time that line sounded preposterous to me. I couldn’t fathom moving back into my families home or neighborhood. All I could think about is moving away, exploring new lands and people. Walking the same sidewalk and streets used as a child most certainly was not growth as I understood it. Where would I learn tales of foreign lands and strange people? Certainly not by crafting them in the backyard of my upbringing.
Moving back I will face my past. I will see the face of the mother who bore me many moons ago, now aged and wrinkled. I have seen her once in five or six years. Before that only a handful of times since I moved out. I will see my older sister, too. Her teenage daughter I am sure will have no interest in me, typical of the age. This older sister has a son aged two whom I have yet to meet. My youngest sister has moved to Buffalo to obtain a graduate degree at University at Buffalo. Although her and I were never close due to an eight year age difference, she is an awesome girl whom I have barely interacted with after she turned ten. So I am looking forward to hanging out with her at least once to see how it goes. I am not expecting much in the way of hugging and excitement, but if that happens that will be great.
I have one other sister close to my age who lives in Rochester. Our relationship has proven to be rather complicated. Perhaps another day I will speak of her.
Then there will be my last remaining grandparent - Adel - living in Flushing, Queens near Brooklyn. After her husband Leo dies in a September or August she is living alone as the last standing member of her generation in our family. Although her son and daughter live nearby and visit often, possibly daily, I wouldn’t expect her to live for many more years statistically speaking. Once a life partner dies the other will soon follow. Once she is gone a huge amount of historical information will be lost. Therefore, I wish to record as much of her voice as possible. When my children want to know what she was like I can let them hear themselves.
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Many years ago, perhaps seven or eight years ago I was at my mothers fathers house in West Seneca, NY along with several out of state family members. A cousin excused himself from a conversation we were having to go talk to our grandfather who was sitting in another room watching TV alone if I recall. I asked my cousin why he needs to leave me to talk with John. He replied that our grandfather won’t be around much longer and he wants to hear his stories before they are gone for good. That shocked me because at the time my grandfathers stories were largely irrelevant to me and of no importance. Sitting down with him explicitly to hear his stories was not something I had ever considered. Now older, there are some days I wish I can redo. Oh, how growing up changes perspective.
I must get to my grandmother in New York City. Once she is gone I can’t get her back again.
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I am not really sure if i want to get reacquainted in person with anyone I previously knew anyways. I mean, we are all different now. We are not the same people. We have all changed. What was once a friendship may now be nothing more than a shallow reminder of days past. I am really nervous about doing this, about moving back to Buffalo. With some of these people, errr friends… I don’t know what to expect if I run into them. Should I face these people I once knew and accept a new reality? Or should I say no to those whom wish to meet so that I may preserve what was once childhood bliss? There will be plenty of new people to meet, anyways. Why revisit old fields, homes and shops when life is about moving forward, growing and learning? Perhaps, if it happens, coming face to face with a past world will reinforce my visions of my future. Or perhaps these faces will teach me more about myself than I ever knew possible. It is my past that my future grows from after all.
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