The End of the Road
I've been on a break for the past few weeks visiting friends in the Northeast and cramming in as many Oscar nominees as possible before this Sunday. Many of you know my obsession with going to the movies, and I haven't been able to indulge that much on this trip, so it's been a very pleasant and relaxing break. This week I'll be preparing to meet with the powers that be and determine what happens to all the amazing interviews I've collected. I'm really excited about listening to them and getting to work editing all of them.
I just got back this afternoon, and it is great to see my family here again after nearly five months. My mom made me my favorite dinner, my dad brought Stephen over from ND for dinner, and Pete told me that when I go out tomorrow, he's planning to "melt all the doorknobs so I can't get back in." Ah, there's no place like home. Really, though, isn't he creative? Most people would change the locks, but Pete's version is so much more interesting, and certainly more visually compelling.
I also came back to a whole lot of mail. Like, a folder full. My mom has been diligently saving every scrap of paper anyone has sent me over the past four months. Some of it's pretty useless—1099s, free credit cards with "Your Name Here" on the front—but a lot of it is from people I've met on this trip. And I hope you won't mistake my meaning when I say that I'd forgotten about these people. They are very important to me, and I think about them all the time, as I do all of my friends. I reflect on the things we talked about, and I think about them and how they live their lives, and I remember them when I see something they'd like...but I guess people are recalled to you differently when you're holding a physical letter from them in your hand and reading their current news. I think probably I won't realize the full impact they've had on my life for awhile, but right now, I feel really grateful to them for all their generosity, and I'm honored that they shared their stories with me. I know that sounds unbelievably trite, but those are the only English words I know to describe it. And I gave up swearing for Lent, which includes swearing for emphasis. Otherwise, I'd be emphasizing everything.
When people ask me about this trip, it's hard for me just to start talking about it or describing it in general terms. Every day, every city, every home, every interview was different. In my mind it's a mosaic of all these little moments, like this guy giving me his map of Yellowstone and telling me best places to go; and my friend's mom buying me postcards because she didn't think I'd have time to get them myself; and another guy telling me he's dying of cancer and he's not afraid; and believing him; and seeing the sun come up on my first day in Minneapolis; and trying to reheat rice at my brother's apartment without a microwave; and reading Frog and Toad Are Friends to a room full of third graders. And that's just off the top of my head. It's a weird hodgepodge, I know, but that's how I see it in my mind at this point.
I appreciate all the support many of you reading this have given me over the past six months. I'll save the Academy Award speech, but now I know what they mean when they say they couldn't have done it without (insert 50 names here). I suppose I could list you all, since there is no music here, but this is the worldwide web, susceptible to all kinds of readership, so I'll avoid naming names. I'll also avoid naming places and plans for now, partly for the reason I just stated but also because they're not all final. I've got a few things worked out for the next couple of months, and those of you are interested in knowing about that may email me at your leisure. In any case, thanks for reading this!