August 7, 2013
I thought I’d post some thoughts on the upcoming Reunion. This post will again have my unique twist on things, since my mind works in nonlinear ways.
First of all, there has been an absence of posts this summer on this blog not due to vacation or lack of interest, on my part, but rather because I was in the process of selling a house. My wife and I had been blessed to be able to have a second home on, of all places, Cape Cod—my childhood dream. We’ve had the house 21 years and it was everything we wanted it to be— an escape, a haven, something totally different, a real work of our hands (it was designed and landscaped with sweat equity), and extension of our fantasy of what Cape Cod was to us.
What we’ve found out is that there is a time for everything, and in this case, there is a time for selling our corner of paradise. Two prominent reasons for selling are: 1. Cape Cod has become homogenized over the last 30-40 years; it used to be truly unique in landscape, people, activities, and viewpoint. Cape Cod had become just like the rest of America with Dunkin Donuts and loss of individuality. There are only a few “ma and pa” enterprises left on that Massachusetts peninsula. 2. As one ages, one is less able to keep up with the natural maintenance of a house where the Cape Cod weather is always trying to reformulate/restructure your house as well as your lawn and garden. One of the saving graces of selling for my wife and I are that it is under our control. I cannot image how it must have been for people on the Jersey Shore to have to been forced to move or rebuild due to Sandy. So, we are indeed fortunate. However, it still is bittersweet.
How does this relate to the 2013 Reunion, you may ask. Well, our closing is on August 16th, the first day of the reunion. I was planning on attending the reunion, but may nor be able to. I could have the closing in absentia, and this is still a possibility.
What this experience brings back to mind is the difficulty of separating from something that has imperceptibly become part of your life. In other words, you do not realize how much something means until the threat or possibility of its absence.
Everyone who had graduated or even attended Padua (without graduating) experiences this event of separation quite differently, I’m sure. For myself, I never really faced up to it. I just went through the motions of graduating without thinking or feeling the consequences. Maybe I should have. Maybe if I did truly be present at that moment of separation I may not have been trying to relive the Padua experience. Maybe or maybe not. It is quite unclear to me. All I know is that I find the separation I will be having from my dream home on Cape Cod will be very similar to my dream school on the hill above Watkins Glen.
January 11, 2013
Most of the things in my life that keep me going are small but fundamental, and there are a lot of them. Say, for instance, feeling the softness of a warm sweater in winter, or the harmony of design when I look at my wife’s garden. There are so many of them, they are often clustered into the realm of insignificance, but they are far from insignificant.
On the other hand, there are big things in my life that keep me going, and they are overwhelming and infrequent. An example may be the New England Patriots winning the Super Bowl, since I’m from Rhode Island and 40 minutes from Gillette Stadium. Another may be a creative idea which may impel me to organize a work project. These large moments of life appear to be the bully on the block as compared to the small things. Continue reading Take Me Home