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Easter Weekend

This weekend I want to my father’s house to visit for Easter. Thankfully Friday was Good Friday, which meant traffic over the Bay Bridge would be muchly reduced. Happily I was right about that aspect. I made it home in record time, just under 45 minutes, rather than the 1 ½ to 3 hours it takes during the non-Holiday or summer season (damned bridge backups!)

When I opened the door I was greeted by purrpurrpurrpurrpurrpurrpurr! My cat, Goldie, was rather enthusiastic to see me, as expected. It was a warm and much welcome sound. In the kitchen my father’s border collie, Pete, was excitedly shaking about. He’d have come running up to greet me had he not been trapped by the invention of the baby gate – which is used to keep him there during the day. Rather than being locked in a crate all day, he’s kept in the kitchen. I took a few moments first with Goldie, cuddling him and petting him, and letting him know that no, mommy doesn’t hate him for being away for so long, and then I greeted Pete, who – as always – licked his chops in an effort to lick my face. Alas, he did not succeed.

My father had not yet gotten home from work. In fact he went to our other farm and was doing stuff the there. That meant I had the house to myself for a few hours. I set up the computer and checked on a few things, checked the time, checked on a few more things, and wondered if he might be getting home so he, my sister Loretta and I could be getting dinner sometime soon. Just as I was about to get settled into something else for the evening, they strolled through the door. We spent the rest of the evening catching up.

Saturday was met with some delight as I discovered the weekend was a Free HBO weekend. My father got rid of all the premium channels after I had moved out, since he had never watched them really, so it was a nice treat to have one available while there. I spent most of the afternoon and evening firmly settled on the couch and watching movies – some of which I had never seen, while my father and Loretta were away at a computer show in Newark, DE. I opted not to go. It was a PC show and I’m a Macintosh person who can run both OSX – Tiger and Windows Home XP on her computer natively – so I had no desire to look at PC computers. I also had no desire to further travel for the weekend. So, I remained camped out on the sofa.

He got back later in the afternoon and set out to work on his computers. He came back with all sorts of gadgetry which seemed to make him happy, and fiddled with his various hard drives, and laptops and desktops. He likes to discover what he can do with his new toys, and generally does so with a boyish gleam in his eyes. We continued to catch up for part of the afternoon, and then the sofa and television called me again with the lure of interesting things to see again.

Sunday we had Easter dinner. Of my four sisters only Loretta and Susan, and Susan’s husband, came. Sherry decided she was too sick to come join us, which is pretty typical of her to do. He wouldn’t say it, but I know dad was disappointed, just as he was disappointed that his great grandchildren did not come over for Christmas and we didn’t find out they weren’t coming until that morning this past year. But, rather than dwell over that, we brushed it off as we always do and had a simple meal. We had ham, potato salad, macaroni salad and garden salad. Yes, a lot of salads! We’d decided not to overdo anything, given there were only just a few of us and dad would be stuck with all of the leftovers on his own.

Sunday evening came all too soon. I did not want it to arrive. Sunday evening meant that I would have to go home – or rather back to Bowie. Centreville has always been and will always be “home” for me. It also meant that I would have to leave my sweet baby, Goldie, who stuck by me like white on rice almost the entire weekend, purring and cuddling and sleeping on me and purring some more and cuddling some more.

It was hard to leave behind. Home is always hard to leave behind. Even though my father and I do not always see eye to eye, I do like going back there from time to time and I miss it dearly. And, even though going back to live there could be an option, as my father never wanted me to move out anyway, it’s just not something I want to persue. And, if I did, something about the house has got to change – and old shadows of the past which linger over it have to be removed. It’s just time.

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