Smithville

July 16, 2008
As Justin drove up Route 41 heading out of Smithville Flats toward Cincinnatus Lake on Sunday morning, I was struck with how much I love this place. The trailers and junk cars that litter the roadside, have made little difference through the years, on how I felt about it. I can almost see the shock on my students’ faces when I would tell them Smithville was the best.

The road curved passed the decomposing trailers, and I thought of Robert Marjerrison. Remembering his pep talk at the Radiohead concert, trying to give me hope in love. He said, “I never thought I would find someone who would love me for all the things I knew I would never be able to change about myself and then I met Mary.” (They have been married for 26 years, yessss!) I chuckled thinking, that, might just be the answer to love. Isn’t love uncontrollably adoring the faults as well as the virtues? Or perhaps at least accepting the faults in order to get at the real beauty you simply can’t resist? God, I have always loved Smithville, faults and all. When I was a kid, I told my parents I would live in their front yard for the rest of my life. It seemed ridiculous then, and even today as I contemplate the places I have been and the things I have seen, I am somewhat skeptical at how I can truly believe that right here in Smithville Flats, lies my favorite place.



I wonder how I could have possibly moved half way across the world, when I feel so attached to this land? Since I have been back, I have gone to graduation parties, run into co-workers and friends in ice cream shops, stores, on sidewalks. I have gone to people’s houses and out to countless lunch and dinner dates with friends and relatives. Taken kids to library reading hours, made a “Cooper’s Book of Poems” at 7:30 in the morning, pretended I was a fish to be caught and reeled in. I walk to Ophelia’s swamp everyday and peer into its murky waters. I am home.

However, I am different. I am not the same, so therefore the place has become different too. It is more beautiful, more special. I walk and I watch and today I get to bring Maggie, my ten year old, springer spaniel. Yet, she isn’t mine anymore. How has ten years passed? She is slower today and pants harder now, but we are all different, aren’t we? I watch the clouds and the fields and I notice that my heart slowly settles. There was a time when my heart could not settle, would not settle, refused to do so. There was nothing I could do to make it stop. But today, perhaps I am a little wiser, or at least now I know that a long walk up the dirt road with the sun shimmered clouds followed by a long journal entry will allow me to find my balance until at least tomorrow, where I will do it all again.



I get home to find my Dad, home from his golf league, in the kitchen, preparing his dinner.
“How’d you hit em?” I ask.
“Terrible.” He replies, a common answer these days. I find myself grabbing a seat to just sit in his presence and hopefully chat for awhile. Somewhere between the avocado and pine nut salad, I realize he has ruined me. He is a Dad that has always talked to me. Always challenged me to think, ponder, wonder. He is honest and harsh, kind and compassionate. He always roots for the underdog and never seizes to amaze me. He is difficult and complex and I love it. He has ruined me, for I wonder if I will ever meet a man that will demand so much out of me or love me so deeply and unconditionally. For, I realize I long for difficult and complex, yet must also have strikingly simple joy. So there we sat, my Dad and I, discussing world politics, like it was a Friday night dinner and I was in middle school again. Yet, I am not 13, not so sure about the things I believe in and I now know how fleeting life is. Moments with the people you love don’t last forever. Tonight, I get to have an hour and a half discussion with my Dad. A father, who, I know will not email me much, when I am in Italy. But that fact does not matter, for there is no one else on this planet who loves me more and I know that. I can see it in his glistening eyes, when he talks of love, hurt and life. So, tonight, I will sit and soak up the moment.

After he finishes eating, I grab a couple of beers and he grabs his vodka tonic. I take my ipod and speakers and before we know it, we are sitting on the dock listening to Joe Purdy, waiting for the moon. My Dad talks to me like I am that seven year old girl wanting to live in his back yard. He points out the exact location the moon will rise over the horizon.

“This is my favorite place on the planet.” I sigh. Taking a sip of my Yuengling lager, looking at the waxing moon reflect on the still water.

He simply replies, “I guess anywhere can be your favorite place on the planet depending on who you are with.”

“Yeah. “ I sigh. “Then, this is my favorite!”
“Mine too.” He said.