Roots

I'm going on yet another solo trip this weekend. If you'll remember, during my blogging break in Lent, I was able to go out to the West Coast with most of my siblings and both of my parents to visit my sister at my Alma Mater. It was glorious. Sunny, green, the pungent smell of jasmine and orange blossoms, and the beautiful Santa Barbara pier. What more could a person want?

Well, inflicted with the human condition and all, I also wanted to go East.

My sister just had her baby and she is getting the little lad baptized this weekend. DH and I are the godparents, and while we both wanted to be there, we decided to spare Lil Sis the torture of babysitting the peanuts for an entire weekend, and I would go alone.

Also, Lil Sis has finals. Pray for her.

So, here I am, fussing over outfits and quart-sized baggies, and figuring I'll just pay the $15 already to just check a bag instead... all while contacting old friends and soon-to-be IRL ones, trying to coordinate meetings and outings and such. I'm staying with my parents again, but this time at the home of some friends we have known since I was 9. In fact, their boys came up to campus when I went out West, and now I'm staying with the parents out East. Unfortunately, the oldest, my very dear friend Krista, lives out West and we were not able to hook up. But I'll be able to catch up with her and her gorgeous children, through the eyes of her Mom.

There's quite a history there. I'll have to tell it sometime. All about wacky charismatic communities, quasi-cults and such. Sounds like a novel, doesn't it? Suffice it to say, there is much to share with these folks. Lots of stories, lots of laughter, quite a bit of sorrow. Much like my old friends I will get to see like my college roommate, whom I have known since I was 9 as well... there's something about going back. About touching base with people who grew up with you and went to college with you. Jenn and I belonged to the same crazy community, went to the same spiritual director, and even roomed in college. There is no one else in the world I have shared so much with.

And while I'm not actually going back to my old hometown, it's the people that make it a personal history trip for me.

I am eager to make contact, to touch hearts and souls once again. It reinforces the grounding in a person, pours another layer of cement on the foundation. Reminds me of who I am, where I came from and what direction I am moving in. It's a joy to still be moving in the same direction ~albeit 2000 miles apart~ yet, in moving toward the same goal, it's encouraging to know that we're still moving together.

:)