closing night

I like to call my childhood family – mom, dad, one brother, one sister – “The Original Broadway Cast.” We started the show in its original run. New cast members have joined, reviving and enriching our little play, but only the five of us know what it was like on the old circuit.

This Christmas was likely our last in the playhouse where it all began. Mom and Dad have made noise about selling their house for some time, but now they are actually taking steps to make it a reality. The house is deeply meaningful to me and many others. It has been the site of many happy memories, wonderful holidays, and just plain old everyday life.

It was where everyone gathered for a great meal and festive times again today. After my grandma and uncle and aunt and cousins went home, my sister-in-law took the brood back to their place. Only The Original Broadway Cast remained, and we fell into our familiar roles of cleaning up after an event.

It was, for me, the highlight of the day. I wish I could explain it, because we didn’t really talk or reminisce or even spend a lot of time in the same room. But it was nice to be in that place with those people and to move in those rhythms and patterns.

I have been on the verge of tears all day, as I am leaving tomorrow and just now am sticking my head up from the maelstrom of changes to realize what that exactly means. Since my household goods are now en route to my new home, I’ve been staying with my parents and I have treasured my time back in my old room, and in the breakfast nook, and in the living room with its crown molding and cut-glass doorknobs. Not that I’m trying to take a mental inventory or anything.

HCB and I had our farewell lunch and he mentioned that he was able to spend some time back in his childhood home before it was sold. He understood what I was trying to express, as usual. Then we drove around in his new retirement present and blasted “Born to Run.” Again, the level of understanding is remarkable.