Someplace I used to go

So this morning I paid a visit to the place I used to work, well, two days ago, though that’s misleading. I worked there for over ten years, full time, and then was transferred to another department and location. But I still did a little part time work, up until this week, so even though I’ve said goodbye to the place more than once already, today turned out to be another one of those times.

My friends planted some lilac bushes for me there, on the grounds, when my mother died in 2004. They’ve grown really well. They started off as tiny little things, and now they’re ten or so feet tall.

Lilacs1lilacs2013

Nice, yes?

I’m not prone to sentimentalism. But standing there I couldn’t help but think about “then” and “now”. Back then my life was completely, utterly different from how it is today. Physically, mentally, emotionally. I felt connected to my career. I was lonely. I spent most of my waking hours at the place I worked. I spent most of my time with people I don’t know now. I thought I would spend my life alone, and here, in Buffalo. Now, work is a secondary characteristic to me; I spend time there, but I’m not focused on it. I’m not lonely, at least, not when I’m with Dave, and not when I think about the rest of our lives together. And I’m leaving, entirely, and going someplace I never had any reason to even visit before. So it was a bit of a moment, I guess, staring at my mother’s name on the plaque, thinking about the people who’d surrounded my days, and the friends I’d been closer to then, and the person I used to be.

Next year I won’t be here to see the lilacs bloom, though my friend says she’ll send pictures. I think that’s all I need, from now on. I think you can only keep going back to someplace so many times, before it starts to haunt you a little. I’m good with saying goodbye this one last time, but I think that’s enough.

2 thoughts on “Someplace I used to go

    • I wish I could put better into words what it’s like grieving, almost ten years out. You still miss the person, you’re still sad, it still sucks. There’s a feeling, though, that you have to step aside and keep going, at least for me, because if you keep looking back at it it can overwhelm you. That sounds overdramatic, which is why I didn’t try writing it before. I just — my mother died, and for awhile I was that girl. And that’s always who I’ll be on some level, it’s always part of you. But I think I’m going to be the girl who’s moving and getting married next, because it’s more hopeful. You can’t let the past haunt you forever, you know?

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