The Pound (a brief reflection)

I enjoyed my time away from Madison last weekend. I do love being with my family - especially when it's in smaller doses and particularly when it's not at my parents' house. Interestingly enough.

It was also odd to be in my "ancestoral homeland", as I keep calling it. There was a deep nostalgia - a homesickness of sorts - that took me a little off-guard. Partly I think it was the longing to have known my grandparents better - as real human beings not simply the pasted-together collection of few memories and many legends that they are in my mind. My grandfather in particular seems like a mythical figure rather than someone who was once a living, breathing saint and sinner all rolled into one. I know, too, that knowing my grandparents would somehow enable me to know my dad better - a gift I would gladly cherish. So it was a treat to be in a place where somehow parts of my dad & my aunt came out into the light.

My tiredness is beginning to overtake me so I will sign off. Paka, paka.