All Gone to Look for America

As we began our journey, back to the Old Dominion, back to our second home town, I heard the Simon & Garfunkel song, America, playing in my head. It's my traveling song of choice -- bittersweet, soft and yearning.

We knew the way. We had traveled back and forth, from Cleveland to Washington and back again. Now we were headed to the Washington Capitals Convention in D.C. We also planned to go to the Newseum to see a new JFK exhibit. And spend the day in Alexandria, in Old Town, where we both worked several years ago.

Why is it the trip always takes longer going there than coming back? The drive down was uneventful. We noshed on sandwiches from Burger King. Stopped for coffee and a pastry at Panera. Paid our tolls. Rode our road. Navigated various construction areas, many of them phantom, with no workers or equipment in sight. We tried to listen to an audio book, but nothing really fit. We were "restless and aching" but we did know why...we were headed back home. To our other home. The one we left behind for a fate that wouldn't let us be.

We arrived late afternoon to a note on the door from my brother-in-law. We were to make ourselves at home. We made a call to my niece-in-law, who came over, her three small children in tow. She was feeding our literary addiction by taking us to a library book sale. We supported the local economy rather generously before heading back to their home, where we saw my nephew, briefly, in his natural habitat of overgrown plants and wildflowers. Too brief a visit. Then back to our home for the next few days. A lovely dinner with new babies and small children and nephews and their wives. Family time. Nice. My mister was a hit, reading stories to two of the little ones, in his own quirky, endearing style. Then bed.

Friday morning, off to the Newseum. Very moving photographs that really showed JFK. You can't always hide from the camera. Which native American tribe was it that believed the camera stole your soul? I believe it's true. Photographs do capture your soul. We spent most of the rest of the day exploring the other exhibits. Then to the museum shop. Then to the shop at the National Gallery of Art. Then back on the Metro, whooshing our way back. Through tunnels, then daylight. Content. A little sad. My Mister went to the game my brother-in-law was helping to coach. I stayed and read my email. Played with my Kindle. Dozed awhile.

Saturday was Caps day. Rallies and speakers. Cowbells and Rock the Red towels and t-shirts and all manner of souvenirs. Silly photographs of each other. Nice to be among our own kind again. Then back on the Metro. The one day it rained, we were lucky to be indoors. We timed it perfectly so my brother-in-law didn't miss any of his football game picking us up at the station. A quiet evening in.

Sunday, my favorite day, spent in Old Town. Sitting by the Potomac, people-watching, drinking in everything. Reminiscing days from years ago, sitting here just like this, reflecting the sunshine. Walking along the riverfront, taking pictures that will never do justice to the original. We strolled up and down King Street, and parked ourselves in front of the building where I used to work. Then lunch at our favorite restaurant, Il Porto. Eating homemade raviolis in a cream sauce that I nearly wept over. Yes, it was that good. If I could have licked the plate and gotten away with it, I would have. I think I chewed every bite about 50 times. A white chocolate cake for dessert with raspberry sauce. We split it. Divine. We tipped liberally and tripped out to buy t-shirts and magnets and the usual stuff for ourselves and for our college-aged son. Exhausted, happy and immeasurably sad all at the same time, we headed out of town. Later, we were driving down the George Washington Parkway. We stopped at a small park to take pictures. Of the park, the Potomac, each other, our shadows. Then back to base camp for pizza and a quiet evening with family.

Monday was our day of departure. Time for farewells and promises to drive safely. Hoping we remembered everything. Did you pick up the two small containers that were on the dining room table? Yes. What about my jacket? I think it's in the trunk. I checked the room, I'm pretty sure we got everything. Then the trip home. Leisurely, recapping everything we did, what was said, what we should have done, what we were glad we did. Daydreaming about how cool it would be to live there again. Though we both know it's not in our cards.

The trip back is uneventful, and we arrive home safe and sound. The cat yells at us. We unload the car. Back to work tomorrow.

For the next several days, we will be saying, "Remember what we were doing this time last week?"

Yep, I remember...