it was derrick's last day and i promised him a ride to the flagstaff airport. it was also the day that i was going to meet my parents there. as we were leaving the park, my car ran out of gas. i called AAA, the pittsburgh division - they had to call the middle-of-nowhere arizona division, who then had to call the company garage, who would come and give me some gas. this took at least an hour - which was frustrating for a number of reasons, especially since i could see the company garage from where i was standing where my car stalled. had the garage just come, without AAA, i would have owed them $75. so i waited. my cell phone dying, poor reception unless standing in the middle of the road, i even came head to head with a tour bus who almost ran me over because i wouldn't get out of the middle of the road. derrick and his girlfriend happy and kissing. me, angry and crying sitting in the stupid arizona gravel that is a stupid substitute for grass. eventually a cute boy, probably in college, showed up to give my car some gas. he rode horses, at least that's what his jacket claimed. i had a moment long daydream about him - and us, somewhere in northern arizona, me as his girlfriend and him as the slow, quiet rodeo guy. i gave him $5 and we went on our way.
when heather, from AAA, explained to me, "laura, i'm heather, the problem is that i'm in Pittsburgh and i need to contact the Northern Arizona division of AAA for this to work" - i started to cry. heather knew how to deal with me - and i could picture her, in pittsburgh, on a rainy day - maybe she had Panera for lunch - and tonight she'd go home to a house in Wexford, probably and watch the channel 11 news. this was the first time that i've cried here. the sense of wanting came back. i wanted to be with my parents. i wanted to be stuck on the side of the road with someone who knew how to deal with me when i get insane. the sense of urgency, like the world might end if i didn't get to my parents soon, came rushing back.
the last time i felt this feeling was when i came home to visit a few months ago. i landed in Pittsburgh at 10:00pm and knew that my friends were all waiting at the bar for me. i felt like the road would never end, the traffic lights would never turn green, like the car in front of us would never speed up. and i ran - i think i actually ran to them. standing outside of the bar, smoking cigarettes - laurie and chris and lacy and paul and jenn and margot and everyone. this, laura, is who you are. this is who loves you.
i finally got to flagstaff. my parents were at the hotel monte vista bar - a historic hotel that gives grand canyon employees discounts. i walked in and found them sitting together, next to clinton, a local who was helping to restore the building. he was only 30, but looked 80. and i laughed to myself - my mom, of course, had made a friend. and my dad, of course, was enjoying the spoils of her friendly, outgoing, talkative nature. we went to dinner and spent the night in the john wayne suite of the hotel and left in the morning on our northern arizona adventure which included almost everything there is to see north of the south rim of the canyon.
we were driving through the desert, listening to james taylor (james taylor has no business in northern arizona, but i was okay with it on this day). my dad was driving, my mom in the backseat commenting on everything we saw, "oh! look at that - sort of looks like a cathedral in italy, huh?" or my dad laughing at a halfway constructed house in the middle of the desert, "look! they're building a McMansion on the reservation!" and i felt another feeling that i hadn't felt in a while - loved. safe. known. i felt a shift come over me that's difficult to explain. it was physical, emotional and mental. settling into the feeling of companionship, love, family, tenderness, being cared for, being adored - a feeling that i've known so well all of my life. leaving the feeling of independence, pride, self-reliance, the feeling of having to prove myself - this whole time out here started seeming senseless, or fake, or useless in comparison to how it felt to be with them.
their time here was wonderful. being with my mom as she studied the plants and the rocks and noticed things that i ignore made everything that i love about her overwhelm me. we took walks and smelled tree bark and watched chipmunks. she took me around the forest and explained aspen trees to me and even stole some branches that had fallen off the tree - of course she did. and we sat, and she talked to everyone and anyone, alive, dead, birds, chipmunks, flowers - whatever it might be, she'll find a way to have a conversation. and my dad. who i owe so much of who i am to. growing up, my friends were going to myrtle beach, or florida and my dad was driving us around to remote, interesting, beautiful places. wyoming, and washington, and mountains and oceans, colorado and maine and oregon and even a trip to prince edward island in canada. my dad who i owe so much to because of this - who gave me the experiences that have inspired me to love the same things as him, and love the same books, and love maps and geography and driving and the road and charles kuralt. my brother was missing - which sucked. on our trip to wyoming, my brother and i started making "moo-ing" sounds at every cow that we passed. eventually my parents had to lock the windows. i missed him a lot on this trip - he would have added doses of comedy and honesty and difficulty that we would have only benefitted from.
i'm writing this from my bed on my day off. and the feelings that i talked about seem distant again. i have less than 3 weeks here. i am trusting and knowing that when i get home to wellesley avenue, love will end up being a greater feeling than these arizona feelings. i learned a while ago that the difficult things are often the best things - i forgot to remember that love is often difficult. and not just romantic love - real love. between parents and children, brothers and sisters and friends. i am trying to purposefully do things that are hard, instead of running away from them. for a while now, i've thought that going back to pittsburgh would feel like settling, but it isn't until right now that i've realized that it's the opposite. this time has been an escape - and sure there's freedom, independence and i don't owe anyone anything here - but it's the easy way. and besides, i just really miss the rain.
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