Subterranean Homesick Blues- and Dylan Doesn't Make it Better.

I never imagined a grown person could be so homesick.

These beautiful Japanese Magnolias are a part of my regular drive in Birmingham.  A drive that is lush and green and lined with blossoms at all times of the year.  When I am there, I am home.  I searched a lot of years and a lot of miles to find home- a place where I felt loved, where I found my tribe.

I have walked a thousand miles down that magnolia-lined road and back, around the lakes, and on those sidewalks over the past 16 years.  I have driven my children to practices, to sleep-overs, to the grocery store, and to school.  Every time that I see these trees, it evokes the feeling that Italians must have in Tuscany when they rub the dirt in the hands and know it is theirs.  This isn't my dirt, they aren't my trees, but they are my sanctuary.

I miss Vulcan towering over the city and knowing that he is always there.  And for years, he called me to prayer- for those who had lost their lives in auto accidents when his light would turn red.  When the light was green-I always gave thanks for another safe day in our city.  It was weird that a statue could call so many to prayer, but I was very sad when his light was replaced with the spear.

I look out over the Birmingham skyline and I see the place where I had my first real job, where I kissed a grown man wearing a suit for the first time, where I broke up with that same idiot for being a cheater. I see the park where my best friend from college and I used to take a blanket and have picnic lunches.

I see the restaurant where my husband and I went on one of our first dates, it has long since changed names and owners.  That restaurant is next to the building where I helped my husband move into his Birmingham office.  I can look out over that skyline and see the next office where we moved him on a Sunday night- when all was quiet and still.  I remember how he kissed me on the corner of 20th, across the street from the church where we were married, and how full of hope we were regarding our future.

It was like a movie- we were the only ones downtown, it was sort of rainy, and the winds were blowing, and there on the corner of 20th and 6th Avenue North, he kissed me like we were in a 40's movie, I will never forget it as long as I live.  I believe my heel might have popped.

Today, I'm listening to a little Dylan and trying to get over my three week visit that I just had back home to my beloved Birmingham. It is Magic, the Magic City.  There is something that gets in your blood and you are always a part of it and it is a part of you.  And although I am enjoying my Florida respite, I sure will be glad when I can sing that ole Telluride song and mean it when I say "And I"ll be in Birrrrmingham tonight." Enjoy the song below.

I'll be in Birmingham Tonight

Love y'all,
Holly