Tidewater

I had a blast this weekend. I can truly say that this one of the best holiday weekends I've ever had. Here are the highlights:

I love my extended family. I truly miss them. The cousins, aunts, uncles...we are a tight knit clan. Being around them gives me such a sense of continuity and familiarity. No family is perfect. God knows mine has some issues. But the undercurrent between us, what connects everyone, is love. I am thankful that I got to see my little cousins, that Justin got to play with his cousins that are his own age, that everyone is healthy for the most part, and that I have a family dynamic enough to blog about. I love my great Aunt Dorothy especially. She is the awesomest 77 year old on the planet. She has been raising kids her whole life (the woman is literally surrounded by grands and great-grands) and still has enough love in her heart for mine, to get to know him and respect his individuality. That's gangsta. And I love my cousin, Chandra. She and I are 3 months apart and have been partners in crime since infancy. She's like my other half in a weird way. I think our relationship is the epitome of "cousin-hood": loving each other, lots of fighting (in childhood), getting into trouble, being there for each other in hard times, partying, etc. Love you girl!

I love my boys. Some of whom I've known since toddlerhood. One grew up next door to Chandra. They have both lived in their houses all their lives. I met him somewhere between the ages of 3 and 6 and a lifetime friendship was formed. I treasure the longevity of these friendships. Even the newest ones span 10 years or more. That's what happens when people stay static. My boys are my boys, they never change. Sometimes that's a bad thing. But I choose to focus on the good aspects of it: they are familiar. Being around them is akin to slipping on a pair of comfortable old shoes. We laugh at each other's jokes. We play stupid games. We party. HARD. There is nothing like playing the dozens with someone you've known since they were a kid so you know ALL the buttons to push. We've had our share of joy and sorrow, all with the same tight clique of people. They tolerate my eccentricities (it's what makes me who I am) and I tolerate theirs. It's a beautiful relationship.

I love the beach. I got teased a lot about that this weekend. See, for people who live near the water, it becomes just an ordinary thing. Something to complain about (it's dirty, it's cold, it's too far, it smells salty, etc. ) But for me, it's always something special. I love looking out to the horizon and knowing there's nothing but an ocean out there. And that if I look far enough I would run into West Africa or the UK. I love the feeling of warm sand between my toes and the way waves crash up on the shore. And the water is not dirty...it's an aqua green in the sunlight. Not a crystal blue like you would find in the tropics, but still...good enough for Virginia.

I love Portsmouth. It is so achingly familiar. My little town with a church and a corner store on every block. My whole life, the lives of generations of my family, is centered around that town. I know many of my friends long to escape there. I want them to realize it's their routine they long to escape from, not the city itself. Fulfilling life experiences can be had in Portsmouth, but only if you think outside "the hood." I guess I shouldn't begrudge them wanting to leave though. And if I'm honest, I don't want them to leave. I don't want to lose my familiar place and the people in it. That's very selfish of me, but it's the truth. I've had the opportunity to travel all over the country and other places in the world. Not all of them have. My travels have shown me there's nothing like home, but I can't be so selfish that I want to deprive other people of that experience.

I love the hood. Yes, another place people want to escape from. But the evils of the hood are outweighed by the good. Lifelong friendships, a cultural epicenter, and a strong sense of community are some of the best things that come out of the hood. The hood is one of the last places remaining that your kids can be free to roam the neighborhood with other kids because you know your neighbors will keep an eye on yours just like you will keep your eye on theirs. The hood is one of the last remaining places where you know that other parents have permission to discipline you if you get out of line when your parents aren't around. The hood is one of the last places that you will find relationships that endure so long that who you grew up playing with is likely to be the same crowd at your funeral. The hood is one of the last places where if your neighbors are having a cookout, you know you're invited by default because "that's what neighbors do." I am not oblivious to the bad things about the hood, but I'm not blind to the wonderful things about it either.

I always get struck with this sense of nostalgia and longing when I visit Tidewater. The food (mmm hushpuppies, smothered porkchops and sausage & rice, oh my!), the family, the company, the quality of the relationships...I always feel more (ful)filled when I'm there than here. There have been a few times this sense of "this is where I really belong" has been so strong that I've seriously considered uprooting my life to move back there. The most recent occurence was in October 2005. There are practical reasons both for and against that I need to consider. The cost of living is less--not as much of a disparity as in the past, but still...less. Salaries and wages are less too, though. The educational system is not as good as it is in Northern Virginia, with the exception of the Virginia Beach school system. I wouldn't mind living in Virginia Beach...

The important thing is, I had a good time and so did my son. He stengthened his bond with his family and made new acquaintances that maybe, if he's lucky, will last him as long as mine have. In the meantime, I will continue to dream of Tidewater. Only 6 weeks until I can go back there again.