My mother keeps no food in the house, the furniture is all askew in anticipation of the concert, the carpets haven’t been vacuumed, papers are stacked all over my brother’s desk, the dog bed on my mom’s bedroom floor is as large as her bed, dog fur and dust are everywhere, my brother’s whiskers litter the bathroom sink, there is an aching emptiness in the spacious Frank Lloyd Wright architecture of the living room and den.
I believe this is heaven to noone else but me.
My brother and Kylan (the dog he’s sitting) pick me up at the Paso Robles transportation center on Tuesday evening. And, we fall fluidly into a conversation and cruise by the grocery store to pick up some ingredients for a dish I have been craving: whole wheat pasta, broccoli, sun dried tomatoes and chicken. Yum.
One thing I’ve grown quite weary of is the limitations of my diet… As I told my mother, it is foul to look at a vending machine, and think “lunch.” I’m so hungry all the time! I’ve dropped about 7 pounds since I left 4 weeks ago. Amazing to think… considering the crap I’ve been putting in my body. It’s a new fad diet: greyhound bus terminal eating! Sure to induce starvation...
At home I rarely cook, and you have to twist my arm to clean, do dishes, sweep. But, here, there’s so clearly a need for it and it requires so little effort to make a difference, that I fall into like it’s old hat. And, I don’t resent it. Wipe, wipe. Rinse, rinse. Cook, cook. Analyze, analyze. Sing, sing. A busy little bee, happy to be home. To be needed. I fill an empty space here that doesn’t exist anywhere else in the world.
My thoughts turn frequently, now, to the concept of home, and to the specifics of my future. However, I find myself mostly unwilling or unable to plan - a strange state, indeed, for me the queen of over-planning. Everyone has embraced me with open arms, and there are so many possibilities for creating a new home. Places I could just stop moving, and be cared for. But, I don’t seem to want that from anyone. I would prefer to get on my greyhound, thank you very much. This trip feels like home. Watching this beautiful, empty country unfold before me. So much space. Who knew there was so much space out here?
My mom and I have always had this deal, that no matter where she was or what was going on, that if I needed it, she’d come get me.
When I made the decision to leave Berklee, and Andrea, and Boston… I thought I’d hit one of those walls. The “come get me” walls. Lost, lonely, determined, and undeniably a bit manic, I wanted to be rescued. I remember talking to my mom at work the day I burst into tears during my performance review… because I was just that unhappy despite what a good job I was doing. I called her, and told her that I was finally considering her offer to come and collapse in the mother-in-law house in her back yard. I don’t know that I’ve ever noticed her stop breathing. I guess she never expected me to actually take her up on it… Not since I was 20, anyway. And, we were both at a stand still. I didn’t yet know what was in store for me. I just knew it couldn’t go on like it was.
So, I dove down and found the willingness to do whatever it took to not give up on myself. And set off to see what I could find, and to land, finally, on my mother’s doorstep.
It’s hard to be 31 years old, and admit that I still need my mom… but, hey, what can I say? She and I have been through a lot together. And, despite our differences in experience since I left home… there is no denying, I am my mother’s daughter. In all the glory and all the shame that implies. These are my roots.
Despite the stress-induced, disheveled state of affairs when I arrived, my mother is in fact an amazing host. We all sprung into action on Wednesday afternoon, and turned the cavernous living room into a proper concert venue with chairs clustered around tiny tables with fall-themed place settings. Cleaning, cleaning, cleaning – inside and out. Then decorating, shopping, laying out the snacks and wine. It was beautiful. And, even perfect that Sophie, my mom’s dog – ate the first tray of cheese, and we had to get another one! You see, it just can’t be any other way…
I was so excited about the show after not having been able to sing for more than a week. I was pacing around the house like a mad woman, and, called Andrea to babble to while my nerves got the best of me… Andy, who was preparing to leave for an adventure of her own in Denver this weekend was happy to oblige my babble.
And, finally they came. The guests. The audience. Moving toward the kitchen, we made small talk until it was time for Paul and I to set up the camera, and then get started.
I sung my heart out for over an hour, and could have kept going had I not made a set list, and stuck to it. I made good money, sold CDs to about 1/3 of the audience. Some of whom had already bought them before, and were buying a 2nd copy for their friends/family. This, this, this, I thought… this is what I came out here to do. And, if feels SO good to do it right.
Once we closed up the night and shuffled everyone out… my mom, brother and I sat around chatting about it all, with a bottle of wine, cheese, crackers, and salami. I listened to them, waiting for the parts that rang true: how I’ve changed, what I could do better, what it means to be a professional, what a good job I’d done that night, how people had responded to me, and where I’m headed from here.
My brother told me that he remembered shows in Boston when he felt compelled to jump on stage and yell, “That’s my sister! What have you done to her?” I nearly died when he said that… it’s good to be protected. It’s good to be heard.
And my mother, proud as she could be – and so happy for me that I’ve found what I needed to find about my music, about myself, about my place in the world. Willing to support me in whatever way she can figure out to do so.
Home.
Driving through this alien planet of a landscape, today, I’m headed for Las Vegas where I will sing a show tomorrow night at my godmother’s house, before meeting up again with my brother and mother for a family vacation at the Grand Canyon… ☺
I have the undeniable feeling, amidst the exhaustion of travel, and the mal-nourishment of greyhound bus terminal food, aware of the annoyingly frizzy pile of hair on my head, and with the serious discussions of my next moves and the future still ringing in my ears… that everything is exactly, exactly, exactly how it is supposed to be. Beyond all doubt and speculation, I am going to be just fine.
Leaving home by choice, and venturing out to meet these travels of mine…
I am just fine.
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