Living inside a moment of cliché.

I had the most bizarre Thanksgiving weekend.

To summarize, my grandmother died. Around 2 months ago. Remember this post?

The funeral was the day before Thanksgiving.

So my loving boyfriend took me to the airport before the sun came out and I flew all the way to the sunny state of California for a funeral several weeks past due. When I arrived at the service, I was washed over with this strong feeling of Deja Vu. I was walking on the fake, uneven grass which covered the real grass right by the plot where my grandfather was buried almost 23 years before. I was two at the time, and still the memories of that funeral burn like an eternal flame in my mind.

It’s quite strange seeing your 98 year old grandmother as ashes in a small box. It’s even stranger to try and say goodbye to a pile of dust. (insert Bowie’s Ashes to Ashes here)

The last time I was home was over July 4th weekend, seeing family and packing up belongings to send back to Memphis. My life was still up in the air. So many things have managed to change since then, and it was only close to 5 months ago.

So I’m visiting with my family, discussing life and professions and my darling boyfriend and how he’s been this glowing light shining on my life, illuminating everything and making it better. Discussing and contrasting life in California and life in Tennessee. Playing with my nieces, holding my nephew for the first time since he was born almost 3 months ago.

And then my loving family took me to the airport before the sun came out and I flew all the way to Tennessee, with a very extended layover in Dallas. And this is really where the story starts.

After walking and taking the sky tram in circles around the same wing of terminals, I settle down to wait several hours until I can board my flight and be in my love’s arms again. As the lines of chairs fill with people awaiting their flights home, I overhear talk of places in Sacramento. The Powerhouse Pub in Folsom, The Golden Bear in midtown. I had to get up and walk over to the arrivals and departures monitors to make sure I was sitting at the right gate, and it wasn’t randomly changed with out my notice. I traveled across the airport, and here I was, waiting in between the two places that I’ve called home. At any point, I could have boarded one instead of the other (discounting technology and security). I was somehow at the crossroads of my life. The security of where I grew up and my close friends I’ve shared years of my life with in A18, and my new life and new friends and new potential in A19.

You may not see the significance, but I did. It was like being in some bad reality TV show and I had to choose between two bachelors whom I loved deeply.

And the boarding calls happened at almost the same time.

And I abandoned the safety of home once again for new possibilities and a new life.

With that decision, which wasn’t really a decision, I walked down the makeshift hallway, buckled myself in, prepared for takeoff, and flew into the future.
I turn 26 today.