I was reading "Roses are Red" an anthology of Portland writing and it posed the question, "What does Portland mean to you?" I was walking today around Auckland thinking about it- seems like an interesting question, but then I thought why not substitute life instead? So here goes.
If I go way back, life was building an igloo in the driveway with my dad in Manitowac and hauling in wood when I was the only child. It's the anticipation of my sister Carrie coming into the world and later sharing a bed with her even though she had her own bed in her own room. Mom's pudding in the four matching dishes on the counter in the corner of the kitchen waiting for us to finish dinner. Dad building our table and chairs in the garage out of plywood and mom painting them up. It's mom and dad running up and down the stairs with squirt guns and dad tickling mom on the bed upstairs. Later, after we'd moved to Alexandria, the four of us shared the secret of Molly in mom's belly before anyone else could know. Then she came into the world, all dark haired and beautiful and yellow. Mom and dad said we were a "full house".
Seven months later, I learned that we weren't going to go on forever like "Little House on the Prairie" as I'd thought. It was 10 years wishing my dad would come back alive. After watching the Challenger blow up in fourth grade, I felt the loss for Christa McAuliffe's daughter and son. Then telling my friends that we were moving. I didn't want to leave Minnesota.
Our new hometown came out of the magic valley, Minot, the metropolis with a real shopping mall, even though the stores weren't open on Sunday yet. I was shy and didn't want to tell my story. At 16, I admitted to the world that my dad was dead. But I ran away from it to the locker room in the basement of Bishop Ryan after they read his name out loud on All Soul's Day, also the anniversary of his death.
I headed off to UND with a fully loaded Buick Century and was completely enthralled with university life. UND was the greatest time- learning there was like eating candy. Meeting new people, proving myself to my physics professor, walking through the North Dakota art museum. Young love by the coulee. The grand finale was sandbagging until Grand Forks was under water, then leaving at 3AM back to Minot and waking the next day to the downtown burning down.
The next fall, I headed off alone for Portland, this time with the Chevy Lumina and my bike strapped to the back. Homesickness and confusion visited me. I came home at Christmas and didn't want to return. But I did. Life became tests and dress-up parties. Learning to live off ramen, frozen peas and eggs. Roasting marshmallows under the broiler with Lourdes. Walking in the rain. Riding my bike to school. Graduating without pride.
Then moving to my first apartment in the west hills of Portland and starting my first real job at Kaiser. Feeling nervous about signing a contract with a 90-day notice. Walking to Susan's house for berry pie. Loving someone and then letting the dream go.
Buying my first house, then working night and day to make it "me." Carrie arriving at my door on December 17th with my mom. Feeling helpless as she put her life back together. Learning to love Oatie. Then moving to Auckland after selling most of my belongings and renting out my house.
Life is the passage of time. Walking. Talking. Reading. Looking at the sky through the skylights in my little space. Laughing with Ursula as we impersonate colleagues in our office. Singing in my blue shower. Hoping for the best.
Our new hometown came out of the magic valley, Minot, the metropolis with a real shopping mall, even though the stores weren't open on Sunday yet. I was shy and didn't want to tell my story. At 16, I admitted to the world that my dad was dead. But I ran away from it to the locker room in the basement of Bishop Ryan after they read his name out loud on All Soul's Day, also the anniversary of his death.
I headed off to UND with a fully loaded Buick Century and was completely enthralled with university life. UND was the greatest time- learning there was like eating candy. Meeting new people, proving myself to my physics professor, walking through the North Dakota art museum. Young love by the coulee. The grand finale was sandbagging until Grand Forks was under water, then leaving at 3AM back to Minot and waking the next day to the downtown burning down.
The next fall, I headed off alone for Portland, this time with the Chevy Lumina and my bike strapped to the back. Homesickness and confusion visited me. I came home at Christmas and didn't want to return. But I did. Life became tests and dress-up parties. Learning to live off ramen, frozen peas and eggs. Roasting marshmallows under the broiler with Lourdes. Walking in the rain. Riding my bike to school. Graduating without pride.
Then moving to my first apartment in the west hills of Portland and starting my first real job at Kaiser. Feeling nervous about signing a contract with a 90-day notice. Walking to Susan's house for berry pie. Loving someone and then letting the dream go.
Buying my first house, then working night and day to make it "me." Carrie arriving at my door on December 17th with my mom. Feeling helpless as she put her life back together. Learning to love Oatie. Then moving to Auckland after selling most of my belongings and renting out my house.
Life is the passage of time. Walking. Talking. Reading. Looking at the sky through the skylights in my little space. Laughing with Ursula as we impersonate colleagues in our office. Singing in my blue shower. Hoping for the best.
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