Nastalgia, and Other Ugly Things

Second semester senior year I could not wait to get out of Houghton. I went this weekend to visit old friends, my old home. Considering I work an 8 to 5 job right now, I guess it's no wonder that I could not wait to get back to Houghton for my visit. I saw the Woolseys (Stephen and Linda Mills), who are more precious to me every time I see them. I said my goodbyes to them and I realized suddenly how far away and for how long I am actually going, and how soon I will be leaving. No more stops into the office for surprise "kindrid spirit" talks with my first professor mentor. No more encouraging words of wisdom and kindness and knowledge beyond my comprehension until I hear it for the first time from the most brilliant and human people I have every met. I had lunch with the LaCelle-Petersons - the whole family - and it was like I had never left. Dr. Mark and his pride for his students, living vicariously through the adventures that he sends us on, although he sometimes doesn't know it. He actually left the house, went to his office, and copied four chapters out of four different books for me to read about educating in the Native American culture. Kristina remarked, "Once a professor, always a professor." Though he won't let me call him "Dr." anymore. Kristina - are there words? Phenomenal, brilliant, human, beautiful, unbelievably passionate. And their kids - we joke that they will be published by the time they're in high school. They are, however, still very much children. It's very cute. And I love them. Linnea has about twice the vocabulary as her classmates and twice the awareness, but she still loves to be swept off her feet, thrown on the couch, buried in pillows, and tickled silly (don't we all?). Anyway, I saw a lot of really important people in my life that I (sadly) will not see for a very long time. It was good - it was sad - it was hard - but it was very good.

Anyway, I'm leaving Buffalo soon. I love Buffalo, but there is truthfully very little here for me at this point. That sounds very selfish, and I know it. Maybe I will feel stuck no matter where I live. Maybe I just need to get over this. Maybe I am waiting on someone to make it worth it for me to stay. Sometimes I think there could be someone, but so far no one has revealed that to me.

The writer's festival was this weekend at Houghton. Once again, I was the only one asking questions. It was also the senior art show opening. Once again, it was awesome. Once again - well, nevermind. It was good.

I really don't want to go back to the way things were. I am not interested in moving backwards. I am a forward mover. It is sad, though, to be moving forward without the people that got me to where I am. How can I ever thank them for being so much what they were? Nastalgia is an ugly thing (although it takes me by hold every now and again), but so is wanting something I can never have. I need to get over that, too.