I have signed up for another big day. This time, the lure of a bed at my parents house has obscured better judgment.
Leaving Ithaca this morning leaves me thinking. My friend Josh experienced a near-fatal automobile accident almost a year ago, and has only been back at home for six months. He is doing well, and is continuing physical and speech therapy. Good news, morale seems high.
What am I doing in life?…what can anyone do? I think I am doing the right thing.
Headed towards Cortland, my hometown, always gets my heart pumping: who might I run across? what/where should I visit? what will have changed? Sadly, I didn’t see much of anybody, I didn’t find anywhere to go, and not much has changed, except for a new Wal-mart Supercenter on the next large open space at the outskirts of town (this replaces a regular Wal-Mart next door). Sadly, this is not much of a hometown homecoming. Most friends have found lives and careers in other places, some have recently married, and I assume still others are having children. My old house?…haven’t seen it for years. Cortland memories have become less and less tangible. It might be time to transition Cortland, NY from live hardcover text in the mental library, to microfiche, or digital facsimile. Tuck it away somewhere in a box, and let it collect dust. Maybe the discard pile is a better place.
Left Ithaca about noon, caught a tailwind in Dryden, blew through Cortland, Tully, Syracuse, and now on to Watertown, hopefully by dark. Two days of 130 mi each means I broke some of my own rules. Rest time.