After six months, we are leaving this afternoon for Minneapolis. I'm going to have to change the heading on this blog - if I even keep writing it to the same extant. My partner, Rocki, always had the most apt way of describing this six month period: the days would go by slowly while the months flew by.
There is this part of me that wants to write some kind of lofty conclusion - it's the ritual junkie within. But I don't have a lot to say. So many reflections are still half-baked, waiting for home where comparisons and conversation will turn them into life narratives that then get told to everyone over and over again, refining and mixing until, years from now, they have the same kind of automatic timing that my childhood has.
Right this second, Luca and her tio Mauricio are playing in the apartment. She is climbing on him, dancing for him, making up songs about leaving in her little sung-therapy way, kissing him, eating apples and pears, and prancing between Portuguese and English. It's funny, that instinctive self that is bringing her English out to air in the sun, getting it ready for proper use when we are back in Minneapolis. Rocki is wandering around the apartment, rearranging things, cleaning things, checking on things, passing the time. I move from Mauricio and Luca to the computer to the bathroom where I can shut the door, sit on the toilet and pluck my pubes. This has been my bikini-line activity since living in Brazil and I must admit, it's turned into an addiction.
Soon we drive to Rocki's mother's apartment in Lagoa where we will eat all of our favorite dishes, some friends will come over, we will be watching the clock and trying to be present at the same time. When it gets close to leaving time, Dona Iara will get abrupt, not wanting to cry in front of us, Rocki will either get crabby or detail-oriented, Luca will get clingy and I will probably cry. Mauricio will probably get quiet.
And then we will be gone, taxi-ing to the airport to begin our twelve hours of travel time before heading back to our other home.
Until the next blog...
3 comments:
Shit I hope the car is clean enough for you.
And we are waiting here for you...
Miguel woke up this morning fully aware that Luca is leaving Brazil today. He spoke of the last time he heard her say his name, when she still called him Bee-dell. He laughed and wondered if she would still call him that. He wondered if she would have dark skin and long black hair (Yeah, I'm not sure what that is about). He talked about suntans and how he and Luca will look. He wanted to run outside in the morning sun and tan up for her.
I dreamed of you and Raquel last night...walking into my foyer, tanned and with different hair.
We are ready to welcome you home...
Welcome back.
Post a Comment