Station Wagons and Other Dreamings

February 22, 2013




I’m getting to that age. You know. The age my mom was when she had me. And Jeremy just turned 35, which is the age my dad was when I was born. And then I found these photos of my dad, younger than I am now, posted on Facebook (that’s him impersonating a vulture in the middle – and he’s on the far left in the other two).

I know my mom and dad once existed without me in the picture but it’s still a shock to the system… to see proof of a time before Kathleen but at the same time know that even then I’ve always been safely tucked away deep inside them. When they were smoking weed with Janis Joplin (yeah, I just outed you on the internet, Mom) or hosing down the evidence of too much tequila out of the back of a VW bug at a car wash… I was there too. Just waiting to join the adventure. To carry on where they left off.

I can’t help but wonder if Jeremy and I have got a free spirited wild child (or a total math & science nerd) tucked away somewhere deep inside us… ready to join the adventure.

I can’t wrap my head around what it would feel like to have a kiddo of our own. So I have to materialize that ambiguity and unknown with dreamings of station wagons, soft white onesies and family road trips and all the places the adventure will take us.

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