BACK HOME

MONDAY

I left Nashville at 7:00 this morning and again it is raining.  My plan is to have lunch with Susan and Charlie in Knoxville and then Susan and I will drive the Smokies if the weather cooperates.  If not, I will drive the last 100 miles home.

While I was getting ready this morning, I was still pondering the connection I felt when I found Meriwether Lewis' gravesite near Nashville yesterday.  Lewis and Clark actually camped on the riverbank at my Dad's  tiny hometown and birthplace in Montana.  I didn't know that as I child, but I learned it a few years ago while I was doing some research on the area. I had forgotten this fact when I was writing last night so am filling in another piece of the puzzle.  Maybe, it's just possible, that my family ended up at the particular place in Montana because they, too, found it to be a good place. Always, as I have traveled the West, I have pondered their expedition and the migration of so many other people to the West.  In my mind, it is an unfathomable journey.  It's a long journey now, but it seems impossible then with wagons and horses and cows and women and children and weather and illness and death.  I feel a sense of weariness myself now that I am home after a month-long comfortable journey.  I can't begin to know the weariness of those who made the trip in the early 1800's.

I know I am heading in the right direction, east out of Nashville, this morning.  The highway going into the city is four lanes of parking lot.

I am somewhat curious as to why it has rained for three whole days as I get close to home.  It's almost like I'm experiencing ceremonial washing with this water.  Maybe I can look again at my life in Kingsport and in the South. Maybe it's helping me to get rid of some old ideas I've held onto for a long time.  I'm not really sure, but I have found myself pondering these thoughts several times this morning.  Why three  days of rain when I get home?  Maybe it's about Meriwether Lewis, which was a bit of a surprise, and the fact that I've come full circle with him.  I embraced southern cooking last night and was glad to have it.  I got a biscuit this morning at Hardees; I meant to order country ham now that I am back in the South, but forgot and ordered my usual steak biscuit.  Because there was a line at the drive-through I didn't ask the woman to change it.

It's going to rain all the way to Kingsport today; I feel certain of that.  Maybe this rain is about the fact Im going to be starting with a clean slate when I get home.  In this life redesign, I need to have a blank piece of paper, so the rain is pressing that upon my consciousness to forget what I've known in the past.  Try again. Start new. A couple of pre-trip constants will continue: work on my manuscript, piano lessons, and knitting.  But the space that has been filled with Mother, her life and her care, and the estate settlement is now empty.  My winter project will be working on the family archives on both my father's and mother's sides of the family.  In visits with friends and relatives, I have discovered I am one of the few who has the ancestral photos and documents. I feel an obligation to put our history in order.

Susan, Charlie, and I shared a wonderful home-cooked lunch at their home in Knoxville.  When I left on this trip, Susan sent me off with breakfast at Steak and Shake, so it is fitting that I end the trip with her.  We cancelled out trip to the Smokies because of the weather; we'll save it for another day.

Now that I am home, my own space feels like a comfortable bed and breakfast, and I have the place all to myself.  The only problem is that a gourmet breakfast does not magically appear at 8:00 a.m.  I keep thinking someone will show up soon.  But, alas, I will have to invite them.  Or, give me a call, and we'll share a few days together.  I'll even promise home-cooked food, served with a view of the mountains.