She sits and types away. College essays. Twelfth grade. I remember 12 years ago. We were contemplating moving here. Lexington, Kentucky. I did not want to. Not because I don’t like Lexington. But because it didn’t seem right. We’d tried it before. Twice. Third time wasn’t a charm. Or maybe it was. Because I’m still here. And it’s my home. Today. But everything is completely different.
Back to her. Twelve years ago she had just begun. She was in kindergarten and blonder. Now she prepares for her exit. Anywhere but here? Well, not anywhere. No small towns. High expectations. Tall buildings and crowded streets. East coast or west coast or smack in the middle. But not here.
Here is where I will be when she, the second and final is gone. And here is where I’ll be when I decide where my next here is or if there is a next. Maybe here will always be here.
October will end. Tomorrow. It goes out with a boom. Here, anyway. Horse races [Breeders’ Cup] and a football game [Kentucky vs Tennessee] and a minor holiday [Halloween, but you knew that]. Lots of people so maybe we will hide. And finish the essays. Dream of where she will be.
Next October I will dream of where I will be. Or I will already have decided. Or I will not have taken the time to ponder. But I will be free to make the choice. That is the most important aspect. Right? Being free to decide.
I like here and the stability. But I dislike the constant reminders. Of why I am here in the first place. I remind myself I am different now though. Much more me than I was twelve years previous. More of the me I was when I was her age. Me, before.