Jul 2, 2008

Being Bobby's girl

The best thing to do was be away, seven hundred miles of highway away; to see family, to wonder about home and why it means more to me than anywhere in the world.

Mississippi is more loving by far than the flat land we had been through. I may love that place if only for the trees. I could touch a window and say pine forest at every one that passed, and smile. Everything reminded me of dreaming.

Reunions are probably grand were you ever unioned in the first place. No one really knows anything or one. Nice, quiet on & off, for me. Strange to be shy around family, to have the sameness and yet want to be different (yet want to be same). I realized this half of my crazy clan could split again, when reintroductions faded, and the grey and older ones talked under tall trees, being those who know the purpose from before and speak in remembrances, being walls removed from the insiders who speak the streets, who know bass and music loud enough to start your heart, who, if you aren't careful, will make you dance.

What I liked was that to everyone I was uncomplicated. She's Bobby's girl, and being this daughter and not so much else, I didn't mind me.


No comments: