Intersections

I have specific places that when I am physically there, I cry. I have no idea what comes over me, but it's almost as if there is a presence from beyond that just seizes me and brings with it a flood of emotions.

My grandfather's grave is one such place. I could go to visit, leave some flowers and be fine. But the presence shows up and brings with it a few memories. Suddenly I'm vulnerable and recalling inspiring words and Saturday morning visits. I remember 2001 and all the loss I endured. Tears fall as the sun beams down on my face.

While the SJU campus brings a sense of peace to my heart and spirit, there are places there where memories and emotion intersect and a tear falls as I remember days when I was continuously pushed outside my comfort zones. 4 years is a long time to be somewhere...

Oddly, there is this one intersection - 309 and Lower State Rd. - that by forces unknown to me, unleashes a tidal wave of nostalgia and emotion. It's not just that I am leaving Doylestown (because this only happens on my way home), but that I'm leaving anywhere due north of that intersection. But maybe that's just it - it's about leaving...or rather when I was leaving. I used to scurry away from the office back then and take refuge in the little mosaic park (or some back corner of a restaurant) and scribble in my journal, confused and upset about my life, and most days cry for 10 minutes before wiping my eyes, buying my latte with a forced smile and shuffling back to my tiny hole in the wall. It was about work, about stress, about death. Actually, everything was dying or leaving. Me included. So by the time the day caught up with me - 15-20 min. after I left the office at 5:30 - it would spill out in the form of tears right as I sat waiting for my left arrow. I was never sure how I made it down 309 to the Turnpike without an accident. Usually I pulled myself together by the time I whizzed through EZ Pass, but this one day in July after a party, when I knew I was giving my notice the next day, I started crying there and didn't stop until I got home. 45 min. later.

There are other places...other places where I'd been and left, perhaps before I was ready...places where people had been and left before I was ready to let them go. I find myself in these places, where stuff intersects, but really they direct me to someplace in my mind where someone or something or someplace had a profound effect on me.