I Dig Tunabreath's Mojo

Blog soundtrack:



I went "home" today. I went back to the town I grew up in.



I didn't have to go to the dentist. Usually, that's the only reason why I go "home." Today, I was meeting Melissa, a friend that I had not seen or talked to in 12 years (http://goddessofallthingslovely.blogspot.com/2009/08/now-that-ive-found-you.html). I chose Sudbury as the place to meet, well, because it just seemed appropriate; it's where we grew up and spent most of our time together. We arranged to meet at Starbucks at 11:30.

She had emailed me with her cell number in the morning in case I needed to reach her, and I, in turn, I had texted her in the morning with my cell number just in case.

When I arrived at Starbucks, I got a text from her saying she was running late. I texted her and told her to take her time, and then just to bust her chops, minutes later, I texted her and said, "Hurry up! I have to pee!" I sat outside Starbuck's, and then I saw a car pull into the parking lot driven by blonde who was waving madly at me. I didn't even wait for her to me. I ran toward her car.

She got out and the first thing I noticed where her little animal-print Dansko clogs on her cute little small feet. I laughed. She turned around, and my God, it was so good to see her again. She had not changed one bit. We hugged, and I kept saying over and over again, "You look so beautiful!" And she did.

People die and you lose them from your life; most of us know exactly how that loss feels. But if you can reverse that horrible feeling of loss, that is exactly how I felt at that moment with Melissa; it felt like I had just got someone back who I thought I had lost forever. People who have had near death experiences say they see a light. I did too; and it was in Melissa's face the very moment I saw her.

After many tears, we went into Starbucks, ordered coffee, and caught up. After only two minutes, she said that it felt like we never had been apart; and, I agreed. It did not seem like there was 12 years between us; at the most, it seemed like it was only 12 minutes.

The funny thing was when she would say, "And, remember when...." Of course, I didn't, but I think that is why as you get older, it's good to have friends that you've known most of your life. They fill in the blanks you find that have gone missing in your memory; thus, only with them are you complete..................and completely sane. :-)



Unfortunately, she had to leave earlier than expected to pick up her son; we said good-bye, though it seemed we could not stop talking long enough to say good-bye. Before I left her, I made a comment about someone, which I thought went something like "I just don't dig her mojo." Melissa repeated what I said and howled. I said, "Oh, God. I'm never going to live that down, am I?"

As I walked off to my car, she shouted something and waved her hand. I ran back, and she said, "I have my cell. Call me if you want and we can keep talking." Once I made my way out of the parking lot, I called her back. Of course, what is the first thing she said when she saw it was me calling? She said, "I just don't dig her mojo," and she laughed hysterically. I started laughing. Yeah, nothing had changed; and that was a very, very good thing.

When she arrived at her destination, we got off the phone. I had arrived at mine, too -- the cemetery. I always see my parents when in Sudbury. And, no, it's not a sad thing. Well, it was some time ago, but believe it or not, many times I come here and sit with them to feel better when I am sad.



I walked around the cemetery with my camera, taking pictures, and I realized that while I could never really go home again, because my parents were deceased combined with the fact that I could never afford to own a home in Sudbury, I did find "home" today -- in Melissa. And, that realization came in the form of this quote on one headstone I happened across in the cemetery:



I love you, Tunabreath, and I dig your mojo. <3