Dreams of Evansville

Isn't the past glorious from 10 years out?

It's 12:30 AM, and I've been laying awake for about 45 minutes now. It's futile to keep trying to sleep, at least right now.

10 years ago I graduated with my Bachelors of Science from the University of Evansville. It's a nice little school in Southern Indiana, a school I fell in love with on my first visit. I spent 4 years after graduation wandering around Southern Indiana and (just across the border) Kentucky. In 1999, all I wanted was to run away from my messes. So I came to California.

It's calling me back. It's calling with a voice of forgiveness, as if the statute of limitations has expired and all my past transgressions have been forgiven or forgotten. As spring becomes summer here in California, I find myself missing the departure of winter's chill heralding the arrival of a new midwest spring. I miss the fragrance of the air, of everything smelling fresh and new. That's not a smell we get much around here.

As summer continues to approach I find myself thinking about how good a shower feels after a hot and humid day. They way the humidity would cling to your skin, and then (seemingly out of nowhere) the tempurature would drop 10 degrees and the storm clouds would appear. The rain would be warm enough to go walking in, with or without an umbrella. On one occaision, some friends and I played a game of co-ed mud football in an abandoned lot. Never have I been so happily a mess.

I miss the smell of decay as fall settles in and the leaves fall. I miss cool autumn evenings and dark country roads with a billion stars out above. I miss crisp November mornings when it's painfully cold to get out of bed but a hot shower never feels so invigorating. I miss the first snowfall and how the world gets very quiet, as if out of reverence for such a momentous occasion as this.

The transgressions have faded from memory. Oh sure, I could probably remember them if I tried. But why? Why hurt when peace is so clearly extended in my direction?

Part of me is afraid to go back, and rightfully so. Everyone has moved on...a decade is a long time. If I go back, everything will look the same but nothing will be. I won't have the luxury of an open college environment to foster friendships. More than fear, though, I know it isn't time yet. It isn't time to leave California. Not yet.

Several times lately I've dreamed very vividly that I'm back in the midwest, back both in time and location. Somehow, I'm blessed with the knowledge that I don't have to be the man that I was at that time. There are old friends that I haven't seen...Trent and Nate and Alison and Dawn and Danette and Audra and Jim and Homey and, of course, Craig. I'm not crippled by the intense depression that had a hold of me during that time, I feel alive.

It's disorienting to wake up from those dreams. As always, I'm thankful for eveything the Lord has given me recently. I'm thankful for all of the growing I've been doing, for my friends here, for my very good friend who's in the bed beside me (sleeping soundly with her beautiful hair framing her face), for my job. And yet there's always this sadness when I awaken from the Evansville dreams.

I'm crying now as I write this. I miss you all so much! Especially those of you I hurt and those whose friendships didn't survive the passage of time. My heart aches with love and affection for you. I may never have the opportunity to see or speak to many of you again. But I think of you often. I've dreamed about every one of you.

It feels good to cry.

It's been a very long time.

(written while listening to "Passenger Seat" by Death Cab for Cutie)