The Jam Files #10 : Just For You
Your homeland stays inside your bloodstream. When you’re away from it for too long your veins begin to burn with longing. You feel poisoned by any air that doesn’t remind you of the best times of your life. Nothing was ever perfect, but your skin doesn’t prickle the moment you wake up in a strange land that doesn’t suit you.
My heart swelled in a good way once the plane touched down in good ole’ Detroit. “Who visits Detroit in the dead of winter?” I hear a fellow traveler wonder this aloud. I do, I mouth to the back of the seat in front of me. I do.
My cousin picks up me & my husband from the airport & asks if we’d like to take a detour through my old neighborhood. It takes some navigating, but I remember where I’m going. Some things are so different. Others are very much the same.
I see the ghost of childhood me skipping down the alley to the party store to get a garlic breadstick. I see myself hitting my first home run with my friends at the park down the street. We played baseball every day during summer vacations. Sometimes I’d get a knock on my door at 8 o’clock in the morning from the boy down the street. He’d be punching his mitt. He looked more anxious than he typically did. “Are you ready to play?” I was in my pajamas, a bird’s nest formed in my hair from the night before, but I told him to give me 15 minutes.
The second we turn down my old street & my old house is in view, it starts snowing. “Oh wow.” I marvel.
“Just a small town girl…
living in a lonely wooooorlllldddd…”
“Journey starts playing on the radio right now…& it’s snowing. Are you freaking kidding me?” When things line up like this I’m in awe for days.
“Just for you,” my husband says from the back seat.
“Just for me.”
We drive past the hospital I was born in. We swing by the Catholic school & parish where I had some of the best memories I’ve ever had in. I’m flooded with images forgotten. I’m feeling good for the first time in years.
Memory is an odd thing. I don’t remember last year. Last month. Last week. I remember 30 years ago like it just happened. It’s all so vivid. I remember my first memory at two years old like it’s my favorite movie. It’s a terrible memory, but I can see it, smell it, even taste the tobacco tinged air when I think of it. I spend the majority of my present pining for the past.
When this short trip ends I imagine chaining myself to a tree outside of our hotel because I don’t want to leave. I’m in love with a place. I’m infatuated with a season. My body has reconnected with my soul here & I’m going to have to leave a piece behind again. I’m not ready to do that. I’m not ready to return to the now.
When the plane touches ground back in Las Vegas the heat needles stab my skin again. This place is all wrong. I’m empty again. I’m sick. Palm trees make me want to cry.
I haven’t slept well since I’ve returned. The desert is a waiting room. It’s hard to breathe again. I look at the upcoming weather forecast & I want to scream.
“You wanna go back up there for the summer?” my husband asks.
I’m nervous about that. We don’t handle separation very well.
“For the good of your health.” He quotes Heavenly Creatures.
It doesn’t take long to make the decision & it takes even less time to find a place to crash for a few months. All will be well soon enough. I hope. I have no idea how I’ll feel on any given day but the twenty degree difference in temperature has to make a difference. It has to.
“Thank you,” I tell my husband.
“Just for you,” he says.
“Just for me.”
Photo : The Dearborn Inn, Jackson Patino
It’s true what you say about hometown — so glad you found so much still intact in this short trip. Feels to me that this place is good for you.
Be well, Jennifer dearest. XoXo
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Thank you 💚💚
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Jennifer it feels like you need to be there. Happy for you! Do you think it has anything to do with water vs. desert?
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No idea. The heat has never agreed with me since becoming ill. It may even be elevation, I don’t know. This will be a bit of an experiment this summer.
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❤
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me too, baseball every day all summer, nights too sometimes, and catholic school first 8 grades, northern NJ, 4 seasons… good luck .
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The good times. Thank you.
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Love the nostalgic, vivid imagery.
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Thank you 🙂
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What a beautiful essay Jennifer! Its delightful recollection of the past put me in a nostalgic mood too! The place one spent one’s childhood is always magical! You should live in a place that is good for your health. Best wishes!
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Thank you, Dominic
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Most welcome Jennifer!
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‘Your homeland stays within your bloodstream’ – what an opening line. I can so relate to this, Jennifer. I hope you find what you need and that the temperature difference will be good for you. Thanks for sharing this. It really resonated with me.
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Thank you for reading 🙂
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I get these in my email and was so happy to read this first thing this morning (finally, some good news in my inbox!) May the homeland be this kind to you all summer, and make the loneliness easier to take. You and Jackson are an amazing team. 💜
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Thank you 💞
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May it be good for your health, Jennifer. Take care. ❤️
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Thank you! ❤️
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You are welcome. ❤️
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Thanks for taking us with you on your journey. It means a lot to me.
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❤️🙏❤️
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Hope you find a good place and can have the people there with you you need. ❤
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Thanks. It’ll just be a temporary stay. I have plenty of family in the homeland, but being apart from Jackson for a bit will suck.
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It is such an amazing feeling when you’re home. Now even though I am still in my hometown the memories of my younger yrs flash back to me often and I just smile. ♥️
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It will be wonderful to spend some extended time there.
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Yes! Enjoy♥️
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🙏🙏🙏
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