GOING UP A HILL AND COMING DOWN A MOUNTAIN

NEBRASKA: FTW

It was a sketchy beginning. I did not get a drop of sleep Thursday night. I was pretty clear-eyed as I slid out (as I would slide back in Sunday afternoon) unnoticed. For some reason, that made me feel good as I knew I would be gone at least until early Monday morning, when the bus was scheduled to arrive from Chicago and drop me back in Omaha. My home.

I felt like the trip there was short even with the bus leaving an hour late. It seems that the ‘road warrior’ that would ride non-stop from Carolina to the Metro, and from different towns represented by dots on the map as a boxer, has no problem being a passenger. My sister kept calling me, not nerve-wracking in frequency, just enough to let me know she was looking out for me and concerned about whether or not I was on my way to take part in her wedding. Though the trip itself was not bad, the trip I was on in my head was.

From Davenport to Chicago... my lovely seatmates!!

But there would be something that would happen at the end of the night that more than made up for the obstacles I had to overcome and put up with once in Chicago. Fitfully tossing and turning as I tried to go to bed trying to fall asleep, I received a phone call, with the caller instructing me to open the door to my room. I did so unhesitatingly, and there she was, Nebraska. Whatever discomfort I had been feeling started to leave, falling away from my body as it leeched from the marrow of my bones.


Out of all that would take place from my departure from Omaha early Friday morning and my eventual return on Sunday evening, the most important happening was that moment. Without that, we would not have been able to have the conversation that we would have nor would the current level of understanding that now exists between us.


There isn’t going to be any talk about the irony I felt or how I had to endure any part of the weekend because her appearance immediately made any insecurity or discomfort a non-issue. Three years from the week we actually met from the first time our relationship took another huge step forward and this time we can ride the momentum from ‘this Chicago’, together.


For someone who lived a life that has been apathetic when it comes to personal sentiment, it felt different being a part of such an emotional event with someone that means so much to me. Nebraska and I sat for a bit with my Father and she was able to observe the bride-to-be and get a better feel for the nature of my relationships with people (since I feel the same way about this sister as I do my other two sisters) that I don’t care for, despite the smiles and displays of affection. What was huge is having walked my sister down the aisle, saying good-bye to some of the heavier chains from my past has officially taken place. The scale may not reflect it but I have lost a LOT of weight. And thanks to Nebraska, instead of ‘surviving’, I was able to shine and be ‘the man that I KNOW and love’. Oh, and bring THAT MARK home with us to Omaha.

Much of what I thought I was needed to work through by discussing people I had most recently had a relationship with (which is such a relative term) now has been made a moot point. All, or nearly all of the conversation about my life for the past two years has been archived, hopefully forever.

I did get emotional, shedding tears for not only the little sister who was leaving forever, for our Mother for whom I felt I represented, but also because this meant I that I could walk away without any regret or bad feeling from worrying about the relationships from my upbringing. And THAT was due in no small part to (and I cannot begin to tell you how MUCH her showing up meant to me) Nebraska showing up and helping me bringing my direct participation in the lives of my sisters to an end. And for our relationship finally taxi down the runway, with nothing but wide open spaces above us…

(Monkey in a Tux w/Dad over his shoulder)